


scorpio sun

by sailorplutos



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: (please read the additional warnings in the notes!!!!), Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Friends, Coming Out, Coming of Age, F/F, Flashbacks, Friends to Lovers, Growing Up, Internalized Homophobia, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, bitches listen to scorpio rising once and write a whole damn fic inspired by it, chaewon: human embodiment of a golden retriever, hyejoo: part-time egirl full-time disaster lesbian, i'm bitches, not a soulmate au but hyejoo believes it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-25
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 47,688
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22786777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorplutos/pseuds/sailorplutos
Summary: There are two things that keep pulling Hyejoo and Chaewon together: fate, and Sooyoung's inability to keep her mouth shut.
Relationships: Park Chaewon | Go Won/Son Hyejoo | Olivia Hye
Comments: 108
Kudos: 411





	1. when i think of you, the trees shake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey everyone !! it's me again with another loona fic
> 
> i've been working on this since January of 2019 (the idea's been lurking in my mind for longer tho), and since most of my previous fics have been pretty light-hearted, i wanted to try and write something more angst-ish and that deals with more serious issues. main ship is hyewon with a couple of side ships (can you spot them?). however! i do think that this fic focus more on its main character than on romance but ??? idk 
> 
> this took longer to write than i had originally expected, but i'm quite happy with the final result and i think you guys will enjoy it as well !! as usual, i'm sorry the fic is so long but i can't seem to be able to write a story in less than 15k words... grammar and spelling mistakes are my fault but please bear in mind that english is not my first language so i'm not always perfect
> 
> before you read this fic, there are a few things i want y’all to know about it:  
> · internalized homophobia, self-esteem issues (and all the things you have to deal with when you grow up queer and you don't think you can fit in, basically) are discussed + a few coming out scenes  
> · mentions underage drinking + characters getting drunk  
> · i took /a lot/ of creative liberties regarding where the girls come from and all that  
> · possibly a lot of inaccuracies about what living in sk is like. For writing convenience, this is written as if the school year in korea worked like it works here (aka school starting in september and ending in late june)  
> · random cameos of itzy's chaeryeong because i want her and hyejoo to be friends so bad
> 
> anyways, please sit down and enjoy the story !!! i made a [playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6uClQnQ2H5VInUWHro2pxf?si=uAvpvzKcTkS6KkGDaDlTMA) of songs that either inspired the fic or i thought would make a good soundtrack for it, so i'd recommend listening to it while reading

Like most problems in Hyejoo’s life, it all starts with Sooyoung.

(Well, to be fair, it all starts with Yerim, but Hyejoo decides Sooyoung is too much of a troublemaker not to be the one to blame.)

Most stories have different beginnings. For Hyejoo and Chaewon, it all starts in two ways for two people that happen be a part of each other’s life, and then not, and then again.

A hospital room, eighteen years ago—that’s the first beginning of their story.

The second beginning is… a little more complicated.

During her last year of high school, Hyejoo spends all her free time—which, to be honest, isn’t a lot—looking for a place to live with Yerim after they have moved to Seoul the following year in order to start attending university. It had always been their plan, a childish fantasy that had turned into serious resolve as they grew up. After countless hours of online searching, sleepless night and endless phone calls, they had managed to find a little apartment in the outskirts of the city, affordable and just eight subway stops away from university.

It's too good of an arrangement, so of course it’s only a matter of time before everything takes a wrong turn. A miracle ( _disaster_ , Hyejoo would say) happens: with the beginning of the school year just around the corner, Yerim gets a scholarship to study abroad for the next six months. Obviously, Hyejoo doesn’t want to stop her best friend from fulfilling her dreams—Yerim deserves nothing less than utter happiness—but now she is alone, with an apartment for two that she can’t afford alone.

After a frantic 2AM Naver search for a new roommate yields little to no results, Hyejoo starts to lose hope. She doesn’t want to give up the apartment, but she doesn’t feel comfortable sharing it with a stranger that contacted her through the internet. So yeah, she is positively screwed.

Except maybe she isn’t.

“Wait,” Sooyoung says after having heard Hyejoo’s story, “you know what? I have a friend who’s looking for a place. She’s around your age. I think you’d like her.”

It’s almost miraculous. But then again, Hyejoo is used to Sooyoung managing to save the day somehow. That’s a talent of Sooyoung’s—she always has a solution for everything. Maybe not a solution that actually works, but at least it’s something. And Hyejoo is so desperate that she doesn’t think twice before she accepts to be introduced to Sooyoung’s friend.

The three of them arrange a meeting at a coffee shop near the apartment. She sits there for half an hour, listening to stories about Sooyoung’s friend, who was sweet and caring and funny and bright. (Sooyoung said all of that and much more about her and Hyejoo couldn’t help but wonder if she thought so many wonderful things about her, too.) Hyejoo listens, gets more nervous as time goes by—she always gets nervous when meeting new people because being an introvert is hard—almost has a heart attack when she hears the door open and sees Sooyoung smile ear to ear.

Hyejoo turns around and—

And then walks in Park Chaewon.

Hyejoo should have seen it coming when Sooyoung told her the name of her friend. She should have hesitated, should have followed her gut feeling. But instead she convinced herself that Park Chaewon was a pretty common name, right? There were at least two girls with that name in Hyejoo’s school alone. It couldn’t possibly be the same Park Chaewon. And yet, she was. And yet, there she is. Her eyes, her smile, her frame—it’s all the same.

It all happens in slow motion. Like watching two cars about to crash—you know what’s coming, but you can’t look away. Well, Hyejoo watches as Chaewon walks in and all her functional braincells are effectively destroyed at once.

They stare at each other for a few seconds, world frozen around them. Silent, like they’re alone in the universe. Recognising each other. Looking for the things they already and the things that are new. There’s just silence, and them looking at each other for the first time in years. And then— _crash_.

Chaewon tackles Hyejoo into a hug, arms tightly wrapped around her waist like they aren’t almost strangers now after not having seen each other for almost three years. Like old days, like nothing has happened. Hesitant, Hyejoo returns the hug.

After getting into high school, Chaewon had started saying she wanted to dye her hair blonde. Many female idols were dying their hair, too, so it wasn’t unusual for teenagers to want to do the same. Chaewon couldn’t do it because her school had strict rules, but she kept saying it, like a vow: “When I graduate, I’m going to dye my hair.” She kept her promise. Her hair is blonde now, longer than the last time Hyejoo had seen her. It looks good on her; makes her stand up from others (although Chaewon always has had the ability to stand up from anyone). Blonde makes her look like royalty, a princess from an ancient kingdom.

But the blonde hair isn’t the most striking difference between this Chaewon and the one from almost three years ago. She had always been the taller of the two, and used to say that Hyejoo would outgrow her one day. Hyejoo didn’t believe her, because Chaewon was older and cooler and had to be a little taller so Hyejoo always had to look up at her. But now she’s—she’s so _small_. As Hyejoo wraps her arms around her, it’s the only thing she can think of. When did she become so small?

Sooyoung watches the scene unfold from the table, frowning in confusion. When Chaewon breaks the hug, Sooyoung arches an eyebrow, pointing between the two of them. “Wait. You guys know each other?”

Chaewon looks at Hyejoo, smiles at her knowingly—just as she did when she told Hyejoo a secret—and says, “It’s a long story.”

That’s how it all starts for a second time.

(Or is it how it ends?)

* * *

Although neither of them can quite remember it, the first time they meet is the day Hyejoo is born.

Their story starts in a café, way before that rainy morning. It actually goes like this: their dads met while at university, in a small café near campus. They weren’t classmates—they didn’t even know each other at the time—but they did have something in common: they both were waiting for the same person at the same place, both holding a bouquet of flowers, both stood up by the very same girl. It should have been humiliating for them (and maybe it was) but instead they looked at each other and—Hyejoo’s father is always smiling so wide when he tells this part of the story—they started laughing.

Needless to say, they became the best of friends instantly.

After graduation, however, with both going different ways, keeping in touch was almost impossible—Hyejoo’s father went back to his hometown in order to work in the family business, whereas Chaewon’s moved to Incheon after finding a good job. They both wrote at first, called each other every now and then, but after a couple of years, they had almost entirely desisted on communicating. Times were different and so was technology, and with both of them having to deal with their growing families, neither could find the time to reconnect with their college friends, no matter how much they wanted to.

Of course, that’s why neither of them expected to bump into each other again in the waiting room of a hospital, exactly twenty years after their first meeting.

Hyejoo’s mother went into labour on November 13th, the same day that Chaewon’s parents happened to be visiting some of their relatives in the town. Apparently, Chaewon had unexpectedly fallen ill with a bad cold during the visit, so her parents had to rush her to the nearest hospital.

It happened to be the same hospital where Hyejoo’s mother was giving birth.

The rest was history: their fathers bumped into each other, a lot of hugs were given, lots of “I missed you” were said, some phone numbers were exchanged, many promises were made. This time, promises that both Hyejoo’s and Chaewon’s fathers intended to fulfil—they promised to see each other soon, to visit some time.

The only memory about that day that Hyejoo had was a framed picture in her living room: her parents and older sister, looking exhausted but happier than ever, with baby Hyejoo tightly held in her mother’s arms; next to them, another couple—Chaewon’s parents—holding an older baby who looked at the camera with a mix of curiosity and fear. Hyejoo’s dad likes to say that she was almost as excited about meeting his friend again as she was about becoming a father, and she believes him—his smile in the picture says it all.

Growing up, Hyejoo liked to stare at that picture for hours, making up stories about it in her head. Her parents had told her who the other people in the photo were, and still Hyejoo couldn’t help but wonder—what were they doing now? Did they also have this little framed memory in their living room? Did they think about them?

Whenever she caught Hyejoo staring at the picture for too long, her mother would usually laugh and say it was fate, meeting Chaewon that day.

Like so many things with Chaewon, it had to be fate.

* * *

Against all odds, Hyejoo’s first month of university goes surprisingly well.

On her first day, she sits next to a girl—Chaeryeong, shy but a sweetheart—with whom she happens to share almost all of her classes, which means she won’t be stuck with a stranger in case she needs a partner for any assignment. Both of them being introverts, they start hanging out as a way to avoid having to be too social, but end up becoming good friends quickly.

Her new daily routine is easy to get used to, as it is basically the same she did back home, in high school: wake up early, have breakfast, take the subway, university, repeat. Sooyoung convinces her to sign up to the dance academy where she works; Hyejoo is reluctant at first, the idea of her “new” life being almost a carbon copy of her “old” life not sitting well with her. Still, Sooyoung has a way with words and manages to persuade Hyejoo.

Being a university student feels weird. _Hyejoo_ feels different—and she’s still trying to figure out if it’s in a good way or in a bad way. Her small high school where everyone knew each other couldn’t prepare her for university, where every day she bumps into someone she will never see again. There’s a certain comfort in the idea of being part of this place where nobody really knows her name, nobody is watching her; she’s just _someone_.

Coming home is also different. When she opens the door and kicks off her shoes, she expects to find her father working on his computer, her mother nowhere to be seen because she always comes home so late from work, but—that’s how things used to be. Now she lives on the twelfth floor of one of the many gigantic buildings in Seoul, and when she walks into her apartment it’s Chaewon that’s waiting for her, not her parents. Hyejoo is also trying to figure out how she feels about that.

While she sorts her feelings out, and in spite of having an apartment of her own, Hyejoo spends most of her time in Sooyoung’s place. At first, it’s the only way to avoid spending too much time with Chaewon at home, which is still quite awkward. However, Hyejoo discovers soon that her roommate is at Sooyoung’s most of the time, so it makes no difference.

Sooyoung’s place is larger than Hyejoo’s and Chaewon’s shoebox apartment, cramped but homey, and everything you could expect from the home of three young adults, fresh out of college, trying to make ends meet.

In Sooyoung’s small apartment, Hyejoo makes friends.

In the beginning, she’s only familiar with Haseul. They had met before, as the older girl happened to be related to Yeojin—it’s a small world, after all—and she used to spend a lot of time with her family. However, she had suddenly stopped visiting one day. Hyejoo didn’t know why and Yeojin always avoided talking about it, so she had just let it slide. Still, it’s nice to see Haseul again. Then she meets Jinsol, who seems ditzy at first but, as Hyejoo discovers quickly, is amazingly smart—she has that emotional intelligence that most people (including Hyejoo herself) lack. At some point, Jinsol decides that Hyejoo is now, quote, _her baby_ , end quote, whatever that’s supposed to mean.

Hyejoo is not surprised to discover that Haseul is the only mildly functional adult out of the three—which, honestly, is not saying a lot.

Chaewon introduces her to Heejin and Hyunjin, her old roommates and two of her closest friends. Her first impression of Heejin is that she is charming (so much that the first time Hyejoo talks to her she can barely string a sentence together) and one of those people who wear their hearts on their sleeve, honest and kind. Hyunjin seems aloof first, but turns out to be a jokester, caring in her own way and very protective of her friends—especially of Heejin, even if the two of them can’t go a minute without bickering.

After a couple of weeks, she meets Jiwoo and Jungeun. The two match each other in the way only best friends can: Jungeun is the one who brings common sense to the house and, although she might seem rather strict sometimes, it’s obvious that she’s very fond on everyone even if she’s not particularly good at showing it. Jiwoo, on the other hand, is her opposite—an extrovert, loud, incredibly affectionate.

Hyejoo also discovers that Sooyoung and Jiwoo are dating. To be honest, it isn’t much of a discovery because neither of them is really secretive about it—in fact, her first introduction to Jiwoo goes pretty much like this: there’s a knock at Sooyoung’s door, Sooyoung opens it, Jiwoo jumps into her arms and kisses her on the mouth, giddily and loudly. Hyejoo has to look away, red as a beet, feeling like she’s interrupting something very private. (She will find out later that Sooyoung and Jiwoo are quite into PDA when they’re around people they trust, but it still takes her a while to get used to witnessing it without flushing bright red.)

She meets Vivi last—the oldest of the group, born in Hong Kong. Apparently, she and Sooyoung go way back. Having heard so many stories about Vivi, Hyejoo can’t help being rather surprised when she discovers that the older girl, part-time model, full-time everyone’s-crush, is probably the gentlest person she has ever met.

In spite of being such a diverse bunch—coming from entirely different backgrounds, most having clashing personalities—all of them manage to become a tight-knit family.

There’s something special about Sooyoung’s apartment. Perhaps it’s because Hyejoo has never had a lot of real friends except for Yeojin and Yerim (and Chaewon until things went to hell between them, of course), but there’s a comfort she has never felt when she knocks at the door, someone—you can never guess who—opens it for her and a chorus of “ _hello, Hyejoo!_ ” echoes through the small living room. It’s more of a refuge, rather than somebody else’s home—the moment she walks into the door, Hyejoo feels as if she’s finally in a safe space, a place where no negative emotion, no bad feeling can get to her. Most of the time it feels like she’s carrying a heavy, terrible burden on her shoulders, some kind of creature that whispers darks things in her ear. Being in that tiny, always too crowded apartment, however, makes it all go away. For a few hours, she can just _be_.

The great thing about having friends like her (that is, friends who are girls who also happen to like girls) is that you don’t have to feel bad about it. And although Hyejoo doesn’t come out to any of the girls, she doesn’t have to worry about what they think about her, because—they all understand. They don’t know about her but, if they did, they would _understand_. The little things, the casual comments, they all make her feel so at ease around her new friends.

Like one day, when Jinsol mentions having a date with a _girl_ and everybody congratulates her. When Jiwoo sits on Sooyoung’s lap and places lazy kiss on her lips, and nobody even bats an eyelash at the sight (except for Hyunjin, who throws a cushion at them and tells them to get a room). When Hyejoo walks into Jinsol’s room and catches a glimpse of a frame on her desk—Sooyoung, Haseul and Jinsol, smiling, surrounded by rainbow colours and pinks, blues and purples. Or when Vivi, noticing how Hyejoo becomes quiet after the conversation turns into a competition to see who has dated most people, sits next to her quietly. Takes out her phone and shows her some pictures of her back in Hong Kong—a photoshoot of her and another model, both wearing wedding dresses and posing like a couple—and tells her stories of how afraid she was taking those, and the pride she felt after seeing them for the first time.

Outside the comfort of Sooyoung’s apartment, though, Hyejoo still struggles to adapt.

The fact that she has managed to make new friends—God knows how—doesn’t mean that she’s not that shy, awkward kid anymore. University is a marathon; she needs to learn not to spend all her energy at once, or else she won’t make it to the end. She will never be the smart sibling (her sister already got that title when she got accepted into Yonsei University and it became the only thing her parents could talk about for the entire following year), but she feels like she needs to at least try and be good enough, so that her parents can be a little proud of her, too.

Life at home isn’t easy, either.

Living with Chaewon is tiring. Not because Chaewon is a terrible roommate, which she definitely isn’t. But when they’re around each other, they still don’t know how to act—they tiptoe around the other, still trying to figure out what to say, what to do. Hyejoo feels like she’s in some kind of intricate, meticulously crafted choreography that she didn’t choose to be a part of. Every step she and Chaewon take around the other is calculated, every word is chosen with great care before it’s said, every stolen glance is cautious. They were friends not so long ago and now they have to get to know each other again; almost eight years of friendship completely wiped away.

They go home together every single day, silently sitting next to each other. When people look at them, they most likely thing they’re just strangers. Hyejoo listens to the rattles of the subway and the voice that comes out of the speakers to announce the next stop. She watches her reflection on the window in front of her, blurred by the speed of the train. Sometimes, she dares to steal a glance at Chaewon’s reflection and—she doesn’t want to believe it, but it seems like Chaewon is looking at her, too.

So, yeah. Things are good. Not perfect, but they are good, and that’s enough for Hyejoo. At least for now. When her family calls or if her sister texts, she says _“I’m doing fine”_ and actually means it. Sometimes she even sends them a _selca_ and doesn’t have to force a smile. Waking up in the morning doesn’t feel dreadful, and she has something to look for almost every day.

That’s how Hyejoo starts this new stage of her life. Little by little. Slowly but surely. Taking baby steps, one after the other—getting used to college, making new friends, learning to live on her own. And, most of the time, she feels good. She misses home, but not as much as she thought she would. Living in the city feels new and exciting and somehow promising, like there’s always good waiting to come around.

The feeling of belonging to Seoul isn’t quite here. Not yet. But there’s potential, Hyejoo knows. Part of her exists in this city, a part that wasn’t there when she sealed up her entire childhood in some boxes, put them in the car and drove all the way to her little cramped apartment. A part that, although still afraid, is somehow ready to be a little bit braver. And this part of her—it’s completely new.

Hyejoo kind of likes it.

* * *

Admiration is what comes first, or at least Hyejoo thinks it is.

It takes over eight years after that day in the hospital for them to meet again. Just as they said they would, their parents call each other often, promising to visit soon and making plans that they never carry out in the end. Hyejoo never asks why, although she’s curious. She doesn’t hold It against her parents, though—because, as she will learn once she’s a bit older, keeping promises is hard. Very hard.

The summer before Hyejoo turns nine years old, everything changes. In the metaphorical butterfly effect that is her life, Hyejoo thinks, that summer might be that one flap of the butterfly’s wings that will later on cause a hurricane. It’s small, insignificant. She doesn’t think much about it when it happens but, looking back, it definitely seems to be the catalyst of all the events that come after.

You see, Son Hyejoo isn’t exactly the most social kind in the world. She has two best friends—Yerim and Yeojin, both of them around her age—and she had been three years old when she'd met them on the first day of kindergarten. Actually, she had only met Yerim then (Yeojin joined them exactly one year later, being the missing piece in their little puzzle of innocent happiness), and they had gotten along because they lived around the same area and had to walk home together. By the time they had to part ways, because Yerim’s house was in a block down the street, they were already the best of friends. Even Hyejoo’s mom was surprised that her daughter, who until now had struggled to get along with other kids around her age, was almost crying because she didn’t want to let go of Yerim.

Hyejoo had never been able to make friends that easily before, a problem which she would struggle with during her teenage years—and the rest of her life, she knew. In an attempt to see the good side of things—in this case, her social awkwardness—Hyejoo liked to believe that she wasn’t bad at making friends, but rather she was _amazing_ at it: she just knew who was meant to be in her life. Why would she need anyone else?

Her parents told her the Park family would be visiting them during the holidays. It made Hyejoo giddy inside, a feeling similar to Christmas morning. She had been staring at that picture of them her whole life, and it was finally time to see it come to life.

The girl she sees on the doorway, small and doe-eyed, doesn’t look like the girl in the picture at all.

“Hi, I’m Park Chaewon,” she says, bowing politely. Hyejoo’s parents chuckle, but she doesn’t understand why. She just stares at this new kid, trying to find something familiar about her, trying to find some resemblance with that baby on the picture of the hospital.

Her first impression of Chaewon is that she’s—well, different. Not in a good way, not in a bad way. Chaewon is just completely different from anyone Hyejoo has ever met before (and Hyejoo feels like she has met a lot of people for an eight-year old). Maybe all the kids outside her little town are like Chaewon.

It doesn’t take long for Hyejoo to discover that Chaewon is, indeed, different.

No, scratch that. Park Chaewon is the most amazing person Hyejoo has ever met.

She’s older than Hyejoo by one year, but she doesn’t treat her like a little kid. Hyejoo has an older sister and expects Chaewon to be like her friends—bossy. Chaewon is the total opposite of what Hyejoo expects and the total opposite of Hyejoo herself—she’s bright and bubbly and not scared of talking to other people.

Hyejoo doesn’t understand why Chaewon is so nice to her. When they play together, Chaewon asks for her what she wants to do, instead of telling her _what_ to do. When Hyejoo asks to see a picture of Bbomi, her puppy, Chaewon secretly takes her mother’s phone from her handbag, although she later gets scolded for it. She tells Hyejoo that it’s alright, because she really wanted her to see Bbomi. When they go to the park and Hyejoo tries to talk but no words come out of her mouth, Chaewon doesn’t get mad. She holds Hyejoo’s hand, squeezes it—and if Hyejoo still cannot muster up the courage to speak, she does it for her.

Pretty much like Hyejoo’s older sister, Chaewon quickly becomes sort of an idol for the younger girl. Someone she follows around, someone she wants to impress at all costs—because if Minjoo is cool, Chaewon is the coolest person in the world. And Hyejoo just wants her to think she’s cool as well.

Their two weeks together go by in the blink of an eye.

Chaewon leaves at the end of the summer, and Hyejoo watches as her car drives down the street. She watches it as it disappears and feels something wet on her cheeks and—suddenly, she’s crying. Hyejoo cries and doesn’t know why, and when her mother holds her in her arms and asks her what’s wrong, she still cries. She cries, head buried in the crook of her mother’s neck, until the memory of that car disappearing into the distance becomes a little blurry.

“They’ll be back next year, I promise,” her father says, wiping away one of her tears with his thumb. He pats her head and kisses her forehead, and Hyejoo doesn’t feel like crying anymore.

She’s still a kid, so she believes her father. He has never lied to her, why would he now?

Summer will come again, and so will Chaewon.

* * *

Their kitchen might be on fire.

Her Miss Fortune has just slain the enemy ADC when a strange smell starts gets to her nose. After deliberating for a second, she decides to brush it off and continue playing. It’s probably just Chaewon trying weird food from a new take-out place. (Hyejoo thinks most of the time that Chaewon’s taste buds don’t work like they should.) She shakes her head and focuses on the game again—her team is already in the enemy’s base, only the tank and the jungler standing between them and the Nexus. If only her teammates are smart enough, they’ll protect her Miss Fortune and let her do all the damage; the enemy Tahm Kench isn’t a particularly gifted player, but he’s still a pain in the ass. Once they get rid of him, victory is theirs.

She smiles, pleased, ready to press R. Two more seconds and the game will be over. Victory, victory, vict—

Her bedroom door slams open, startling Hyejoo and almost making her fall off her chair. Her finger misses the R key, pressing God knows what instead. It doesn’t matter, though—the unknown smell is getting stronger now. She can barely hear the voice announcing that her character has been slain—her headphones are on the floor now—before Chaewon runs into the room and almost tackles her, her face pale as snow and eyes watery, like she’s close to tears.

“The kitchen—” is all Chaewon can say before she chokes a sob. _Oh, no_ , Hyejoo thinks, _she’s crying_. The kitchen. Chaewon crying. What is going on with the kitchen? What the hell is that smell? But Chaewon is crying. Oh, God, Hyejoo can’t handle Chaewon crying. And—wait, is that _smoke_?

All her instincts activate at once. Hyejoo sprints out of her room, so fast that she almost falls flat on her face. Doesn’t even look back to see if Chaewon is following her or not. Their apartment is so small, but suddenly it feels like there are miles between her bedroom and the kitchen, where she can see a grey trail of smoke coming out.

There’s a small pot on the stove, and it’s quite literally on _fire_. Hyejoo’s mind goes blank for a moment, and then at a thousand miles per second—how the hell is she supposed to put out a fire?

Not with water, she knows that. Her father had taught her once: they went out on a camping trip and Minjoo almost burned their tent down while trying to cook marshmallows with one of her friends. When the little fire they had made got too big, they had tried to put it out by pouring water on it, which had resulted in Minjoo getting a bad burn on her hand and the fire getting bigger. It was a miracle their dad was around. After that, Minjoo got grounded for two weeks and had her phone taken away. But their father always liked to turn any scolding into some kind of life lesson, so he explained in full detail how to handle campfires, or any type of fires that could happen by accident when cooking. So—life lessons. Dad. Camping. Minjoo and the marshmallows. Fire. Fire. Fire. What was that he said about kitchen fires?

She tries not to panic and grabs a lid, slightly bigger than the burning pot. Then, she takes one of the rags they use to clean the countertop and soaks it in water. Carefully, she covers one of her hands with it and takes a couple of steps towards the pot, doing her best to avoid any sparks as she stretches her arm and turns off the stove. She quickly covers the pot with the lid and moves it away from the burner, feeling the heat of the metal even through the wet cloth covering her hand.

Her father was right. She remembers clearly now—the lack of oxygen makes the fire stop. The fire actually _stops_. Hyejoo sighs in relief and plops into the nearest chair, exhausted. She might have aged thirty years after that. The ceiling above the stove is a little scorched, but—well, at least she managed to stop the apartment from burning down.

“We’re _so_ not getting our deposit back,” she mumbles, staring at the blackish spot on the ceiling. Well. Still better than having to evacuate the building.

“Oh my God. I—I’m…” Chaewon says from the doorway. Hyejoo turns her head and sees the older girl standing there, still white as a sheet, her shoulders shaking slightly. “I’m sorry, Hyejoo.”

The way her voice breaks when she says her name activates all of Hyejoo’s protective instincts. She has known Chaewon for years, she knows the expression on her face—the one she makes when she’s about to start crying. _Again_.

She stands up and closes the distance between them in two swift steps. Chaewon looks up at her, a single tear running down her cheek, leading the way for the rest that will soon follow. In moments like this, Hyejoo has a hard time believing that any of her childhood memories are real. How much can things change in three years? She’s been always been the cry-baby, the little kid—not the other way round.

“I’m so sorry, Hyejoo,” Chaewon repeats. Without thinking, Hyejoo grabs both of her hands, squeezes them softly. She remembers Chaewon doing the same to her when they were kids; it was the only thing that helped her calm down. “I’m…”

“Chaewon, seriously,” Hyejoo whispers, almost like she’s talking to a scared animal that might run away at any second. “It’s okay. We’re okay, right? Nothing bad happened.”

“I just—I wanted…” A sob. “I wanted to make some ramyeon. You hadn’t eaten anything, so I thought—you’d be hungry. But I went to my room and—and I—”

“Wait,” Hyejoo interrupts her, brows furrowing, “you were cooking ramyeon?”

Chaewon nods, a pout and a mess of tears on her face.

And Hyejoo just—she starts laughing. Laughs with her head thrown back. Laughs so hard she has to let go of Chaewon’s hands to hold on to her shoulders or else she’ll lose her balance. Laughs until she’s almost crying, too.

Chaewon holds her and watches like Hyejoo has just lost her mind.

“Uh. I—um, Hyejoo,” she calls. One of her eyebrows is raised. Oops. Hyejoo knows that expression. But, hey, at least she isn’t crying anymore.

“Yeah?”

“What’s so funny about this?” She sounds a little offended. Well, Hyejoo thinks, the right to be offended gets revoked once you almost burn down the house. And stopping a fire gives you the right to laugh at your almost-arsonist roommate. That’s just how the universe works.

“You…” Hyejoo snorts, wipes away a tear from her eyelashes. Her stomach muscles hurt from laughing so much. “Ramyeon,” she says, the word coming out in a chuckle. “You almost set the kitchen on fire while trying to cook _ramyeon_?”

With an insulted gasp, Chaewon’s expression swifts to an angry one, although she looks as intimidating as a puppy. She smacks Hyejoo’s shoulder (she hits it so lightly that Hyejoo wonders, is she that weak or did she just do it playfully?) and crosses her arms over her chest. When she notices that Hyejoo is holding back her laughter, she smacks her again. And again. And again.

“Hey. Hey!” Hyejoo takes a step back to dodge Chaewon. The older girl might be weak, but if she keeps doing that Hyejoo might get a bruise. Then Chaewon would probably feel guilty and cry again, which Hyejoo doesn’t really want now. Or ever. “I give up! Stop!”

Without having to tell her twice, Chaewon stops. Her expression is a mix of angry and amused, lips curled into a pleased grin. “Serves you well for making fun of me, you brat. You were such a polite kid, I can’t even recognise you now,” she says dramatically.

Hyejoo chuckles, raises her hands in front of her when Chaewon glowers at her. “Sorry, I just thought it was… Let’s be honest. It was funny.”

“I can’t believe you think the kitchen being on fire is funny.”

“No, actually, I think that the fact that you somehow managed to set it on fire while _cooking ramyeon_ is funny,” Hyejoo retorts matter-of-factly. A memory suddenly pops up from somewhere in her brain. “You know what? When I met Hyunjin, she told me not to let you use the kitchen. I thought she was just being weird but—I can’t believe I’m going to say this—she really had a point.

“Don’t tell her that or she might think it’s true,” Chaewon says. Her shoulders slouch a bit. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t mean to set anything on fire. Obviously. I just—I was trying to be an independent adult, or whatever.”

She looks so defeated that Hyejoo almost feels guilty for having laughed before. _Almost_. At least it all makes sense now—why Chaewon always orders take-out, or goes to Sooyoung’s to have lunch. Hyejoo thought that it was a way to avoid her (either by being out of the house or by not having to leave her room at all), and part of her is relieved to discover that she was wrong.

It’s a bit shocking, this entire situation. Because Hyejoo had spent all her life thinking that Chaewon was some kind of superior being, someone who could do nothing wrong, who was good at everything. Someone that would always be one step ahead of Hyejoo. But now, she realises—she’s not any of that.

“Look, you really don’t need to worry. I promise,” Hyejoo says, holding back a smile when she notices the way Chaewon perks up a little. She offers her hand. “Next time you need to cook, I’ll help you with it, okay?”

And Chaewon—not old, perfect Chaewon, but new, flawed Chaewon—holds her hands firmly, beams at her and says, “Deal.”

After cleaning up the kitchen and confirming that the dark spot on the ceiling is definitely _not_ going away, Hyejoo suggests that they grab something to eat. Something that won’t combust and burn down the house while they’re not looking, preferably.

They end up taking the subway to Myeongdong in search of the best tteokbokki for Chaewon. The street market is crowded with tourists taking pictures and people walking in a hurry from one side to another, holding sweet potatoes or freshly-made hotteok. Hyejoo doesn’t usually enjoy being surrounded by so many people, but ever since she moved to Seoul, she has been learning to feel more comfortable around big crowds. With Chaewon on her side, it’s a little easier. Almost like people move aside when they see them, let them have some space.

The dark clouds over the market threaten a storm, so once Chaewon has her plates of tteokbokki (Hyejoo offers to pay for both of them and Chaewon gets a bit carried away) and Hyejoo gets some dakkochi for herself, they decide to head back home.

During the ride, they steal small bites of the other’s food and talk about university, complain about exams and tell stories of their other friends. There are no awkward silences and they look at each other in the eye without having to do it through the reflection of the subway window.

Hyejoo isn't sure one can unlearn friendship. She and Chaewon had spent most of their lives being friends. Even if they were almost three years apart—even when there was something bigger, stronger than time drifting them apart—it’s easy to remember what being friends with the other is like. It’s almost like old times, but—a little different.

But Hyejoo is almost certain that she can remember how to be friends with Chaewon again. She doesn’t need old times. This subway ride is a promise—a promise of a new chance for their friendship.

* * *

(When they get back home, her computer screen still reads “victory”.

 _“Victory, indeed,”_ Hyejoo thinks, smiling to herself, before she goes to sleep that night.)

* * *

Friendship comes next. It was always bound to come, really.

Chaewon comes back the following year, just as promised.

During their second summer together, there are a few things Hyejoo learns:

She learns that she’s grown over the past year, in more than one way. She’s older now, smarter—or at least she wants to believe it—and she might not be as cool as Minjoo or Chaewon yet, but she’s getting there. Although she’s still shy, she dares a bit more—takes the initiative while playing, approaches others instead of waiting for them to approach her. It may not be much, but for nine-year-old Hyejoo, it feels like she’s making big changes.

She learns that summer is fleeting—especially when you’re a kid—but it’s enough to build strong foundations of friendship. And this is going to be a long-lasting one. Even Hyejoo, not even ten years old yet, can feel it. If flowers depend on water and sunlight to grow, Hyejoo and Chaewon’s friendship only had required two weeks together and some afternoons playing Pokémon to start growing strong roots.

She also learns that she’s going to be friends with Chaewon forever.

“We are always going be friends, right?” Chaewon asks one day, her head on Hyejoo’s shoulder as they watch a movie in the younger girl’s bedroom.

There’s a summer storm outside. It caught them by surprise when they were getting ready to go for a ride on their bikes. They had to rush back into Hyejoo’s place and now they’re kind of trapped there until the storm eases off—which, according to the weather report on the news, isn’t going to be any soon. But things aren’t as bad as they seem: Hyejoo’s mother calls Chaewon’s parents and they let the older girl sleep over. After that, she makes them tteokbokki (because she knows it’s Chaewon’s favourite) and lets them stay up playing games until it’s past midnight.

“Of course we are,” Hyejoo replies hastily, her tone slightly offended. Why is Chaewon asking her now? Has she not been enough of a good friend? Does she want to stop being friends now? “You’re my best friend in the entire world.”

Chaewon sits up and beams at the younger girl. “You’re my best friend too, Hyejoo. You’re my—my soulmate!”

“What’s that?” Hyejoo asks, eyes narrowing.

“I think it’s like—better than best friends?” Chaewon says, scrunching her nose. She usually does that when she’s thinking very hard about something.

Better than best friends? Hyejoo didn’t think there was anything better than that—but if Chaewon says so, she will beliebe it. And being _soulmates_ does sound very cool. A huge title than she gets to share with Chaewon and Chaewon only.

“We’re going to be _soulmates_ forever,” Chaewon says with such resolve that no one would dare to contradict her. She leans in close, extending her little finger. “Promise?”

Hyejoo’s brain cannot imagine what it would be like not to have Chaewon in her life, even if it’s just for a couple of weeks every summer. So she hooks her pinky with Chaewon’s, and she might only be nine years old and she might still be an awkward kid, but she knows this is a promise for eternity. She knows Chaewon and her are going to be friends no matter what happens.

“Promise,” she says.

And they both keep their promise. Hyejoo and Chaewon are friends next summer, and the one that follows. For years, neither of them keeps this promise they made when they were just kids. For years, they’re friends, and they’re friends, and they still are friends.

Until they’re not.

* * *

Things become almost normal very quickly.

Hyejoo starts to learn how to settle in in this new life, step by step.

As expected, she also learns to be friends with Chaewon again.

The first time they hang out with each other outside of their apartment is the weekend after Chaewon almost burns down the house. And it almost feels natural. Hyejoo thinks that she might really be able to get used to this, even if it takes a while.

When they go out for dinner together and fight over who has to pay, although they always end up splitting the bill. Chaewon always accepts to watch horror movies with Hyejoo, even though she spends the whole time with her head buried against the other girl’s shoulder, too scared to even look at the screen. They both get viciously competitive when they play videogames together and, though Hyejoo is usually the better player, she still hasn’t beat Chaewon in a Mario Kart game.

Heejin and Hyunjin invite them to go bowling (because, according to Hyunjin’s own words, she is “tired of always winning against Heejin”) and they end up in the smallest, shabbiest alley in town, eating pizza and taking ugly pictures of each other rather than doing any actual bowling.

Hyejoo is sure she blushes fiercely when Chaewon jumps into her arms after she manages to get a strike on the last round, securing their victory. Hyejoo wanted to enjoy Hyunjin’s loser face, but having to hold Chaewon between her arms feels like a sensory overload for her brain.

“You’ve gotten really tall,” Chaewon whispers in her ear, surprise clear in her voice. Like she’s only just realising that Hyejoo has finally outgrown her.

“Maybe you’ve just gotten smaller,” Hyejoo replies, and Chaewon smacks her shoulder playfully before she lets go of Hyejoo.

Behind them, Hyunjin scolds Heejin for her terrible bowling technique, while the other girl pretends to listen and stuffs her mouth with pizza. This probably isn’t the first time she has heard Hyunjin complain about her lack of skills, as she doesn’t seem either amused or annoyed. Maybe she’s just used to Hyunjin’s overly competitive tendencies by now.

“I can’t stand you two,” Hyunjin says, almost fuming, as she turns around to face Hyejoo and Chaewon. “I cannot believe this. How do you manage to win when Chaewon didn’t even touch a single pin?”

“It’s called teamwork, honey,” Chaewon replies sharply, flipping her blonde her over her shoulder with a smirk. “Hyejoo and I can’t be beaten. We’re soulmates, right?” She says suddenly. Beaming like she’s cracking a joke. Tone so casual that she sounds like it hasn’t been years since she last called Hyejoo that.

Hyejoo doesn’t even realise she’s been frozen in place for a whole minute until she looks at Chaewon and the older girl’s eyes stare back at her, confused and expectant. Waiting for a reaction. Almost scared that she has crossed a line that neither of them was ready to cross just yet.

And it’s true—one of them isn’t ready to cross it.

“Yeah,” Hyejoo nods, forcing a smile. It’s almost painful to say. The words are like thorns in her throat. “Soulmates.”

Even though Hyejoo still doesn’t feel like she felt when she and Chaewon promised to be friends forever, she knows they’re slowly getting there. Little by little, Hyejoo and Chaewon become friends again. Better friends than they were before, even. They’re older, more mature—they understand each other now in ways they couldn’t do in the past.

In a way, Hyejoo and Chaewon are still getting to know each other. It’s weird to discover things about the other that are new, or to learn that something they knew about each other is not true anymore. Three years can really change a person, they discover.

And yet, before Hyejoo can even realise, things are back to normal again.

 _Almost_ normal.

There is a reason why Chaewon never came back three years ago. And it lurks in the back of Hyejoo’s mind, a reminder for her not to get too comfortable. Not to think that things will be good forever.

If Chaewon ran away once, who says she won’t do it again?

* * *

Hyejoo is thirteen years old when she realizes she isn’t quite like her friends, or like any girl of her age for that matter.

With the beginning of the school year, a new trend seems to catch on among Hyejoo’s classmates. During lunch, on their way back home… Every conversation is suddenly about the same topic. Hyejoo had already noticed it at the end of the previous year, but paid it no mind—she thought it was the excitement of having holidays ahead of them that made people act a little weirder than usual. It only takes her a day to realise she was completely wrong.

You see, Hyejoo is thirteen and, suddenly, some of her classmates are getting their first crushes. Nothing serious, of course. Just childish infatuations that go as soon as they come, fascination for a certain boy that lasts no longer than a week. It’s kind of like a game: you choose a boy, you pick two or three features that you think are particularly endearing about him (never the same that your friend likes about her crush!) and spend the rest of the week talking about him, giggling when you walk by him. When a new week starts, it’s restart and repeat.

Around two months into the school year, some of her classmates start getting their first boyfriends. Their first real boyfriends. The giggling and blushing continue, but this time with some _‘isn’t he the best boyfriend I could ever ask for?_ ’ mixed in. Nothing changes much, except—some of them start holding hands with their boyfriends. Some of them even start _kissing_ said boyfriends.

Hyejoo never takes part in the crush game, let alone in the boyfriend game. Much to her relief, neither do Yerim and Yeojin, who would rather enjoy watching things unfold from outside. However, a few of the girls they hang out with in school start spending less and less time with them, too busy with their new boyfriends. If she’s honest, Hyejoo doesn’t really see where the point of this—attraction, romance, crushes—is. It all sounds foreign to her. She’s just thirteen, doesn’t need a relationship—she wants to dance, play Pokémon, go ghost hunting with Yerim and Yeojin.

There’s a problem, though.

Well, it’s not quite a problem yet. But she knows for sure that, one day, it’s going to be one—she just doesn’t know _why_. As seasons and the school year go by, as more and more of her classmates get into relationship, the problem starts to become inevitable. A certain kind of anxiety settles in the bottom of her stomach whenever the topic comes up, although she tries to ignore it. She hears ‘ _Do you have a crush, Hyejoo?’_ so much that the words start to sound foreign for her. Worst thing about being asked that is the fact that, whether she wants it or not, she has to answer. It’s a _yes_ or _no_ kind of question, but neither seems like a good reply. No matter what she says, people think she’s too embarrassed about her crush that she cannot say who he is. Reality is, Hyejoo has to answer a different question in her mind, one she can only ask herself and can’t share with anyone else: what’s worse, having no crush at all or having a crush on a _boy_?

Because it all comes down to boys.

Boys are the problem. Hyejoo has no interest whatsoever in boys, and _that’s_ a problem.

It becomes a recurrent, scary thought for Hyejoo. Every now and then, when people ask her that damn question the words wrap around her body like a snake, making it hard for her to breathe. When she so much as hears someone mention the word _crush_ , every muscle in her body tenses. When she looks at the boys in school, she analyses them, searching for _something_ , that one thing that makes them attractive to the rest of her friends. She looks at Jongho’s hair, but doesn’t think it looks ‘ _extra soft_ ’, just normal. She looks at Soobin’s smile, but can’t find it ‘ _super adorable_ ’. She looks at all of them and finds _nothing_.

Hyejoo makes a mental collection of everything people have told her when she said she didn’t like any boy. Like those annoying jingles you can’t take out of your mind after hearing them once on TV, the echo of those words hammers against her ears constantly: _you’re still too young, just wait a couple of years and you’ll be boy-crazy, you just haven’t found the right one yet_. It’s desperate, but Hyejoo tries to cling to those thoughts for a while, wanting to believe that maybe she’s not broken, just taking a little more time to function like a normal teenager would.

She ultimately gives up when she realises her people are wrong—she’ll never find the right boy for her, because boys are _not_ right for her.

There’s this girl in her dance class, however.

Although she’s only three or four years older than Hyejoo, she’s already the teacher’s assistant. Her name is Sooyoung. Born in Busan, moved to Hyejoo’s little town not long ago after having a falling-out with her parents, or so she had told her some of the girls after they went out for bubble tea one afternoon. She didn’t give many details about it—and didn’t seem like she felt comfortable talking about the topic—but that doesn’t stop Hyejoo from feeling a strange kind of fascination. Rebelling against your parents and moving to another city after that? That is fucking cool.

Everything about Sooyoung is cool. She has that big-city-girl air about her, like she comes from a different world to the rest of them. Unlike some of the older girls in the class, she doesn’t act condescending, doesn’t look down at the younger girls when they make mistakes. Instead, she spends hours trying to help them improve, build up their confidence. In a way, she reminds Hyejoo of her older sister.

Sooyoung also happens to be beautiful. Which wouldn’t really matter—there are plenty of beautiful girls in her dance class, too—if Hyejoo weren’t weirdly hyperaware of it.

When she looks at Sooyoung, Hyejoo finally understands—the blushing, the giggling. She understands it all.

She had thought about it before. Kind of. Rather than thought about it, she had spent a whole night awake, looking for answers in the only place she could deem discreet enough: the internet. (On incognito mode, of course. She was no fool.) However, her search had only made things worst. She found a name for it. Several names, actually. Thinking about them make her stomach twist, her palms start to sweat. Is thirteen too soon to file yourself under a label? Hyejoo doesn’t even think about them as labels, but rather as giant arrows pointing at her, saying “Hey! She’s different! She’s a stranger! She’s not one of you!”

It scares her so much that she doesn’t even dare to think about them. If you don’t give it a name, it’s not real. If you don’t think about it, others won’t notice. But—what if they do notice? What if they can tell?

The only thing Hyejoo knows for sure is that she’s attracted to girls in the same way she knows she should be attracted to boys. And it makes her confused. Not about who she is attracted to, she’s sure about that. But she isn’t sure of how she should feel about herself. She has heard what they say about people like her on TV every now and then. Is Hyejoo supposed to hate herself _because_ of it, or is she supposed to love herself _in spite_ of it?

It’s just too much for a thirteen-year-old to unpack.

“Hey,” Yerim says one day, when they’re walking out of their dance class. “Are you listening to me?”

Hyejoo turns her head and looks at Yerim, chest heaving and cheeks blushing. Not that Yerim noticed, but Hyejoo had been staring at Sooyoung for a while. She was talking with a new girl, a foreign student who was also a bit older than them, with hair dyed blonde and the prettiest smile Hyejoo had ever seen. She reminded her of someone. She reminded her of—

“Hyejoo?” Yerim waves one of her hands in front of Hyejoo, who finally reacts, smiling apologetically. “You okay?

No. Hyejoo is not okay. She has never been okay. Maybe she was right the whole time—maybe she was born not okay. Broken.

“Yeah, yeah, I—sorry. Just got a little distracted,” she says. “Let’s go.”

Hyejoo links arms with Yerim and walks as fast as she can, like all these thoughts she’s been having can be left behind.

She knows she can’t keep running all her life, but for now—it’s enough.

* * *

Heejin and Hyunjin come over for dinner some Thursday nights, bringing take-out and their homework with them. Hyejoo enjoys watching them sit with Chaewon on their little table and complain about their classes for hours until they decide to stop pretending they’re getting any work done. Then, they join her on the couch and play games or watch TV until Heejin and Hyunjin decide to leave, never too late because they all have class the next day.

This Thursday in particular, Hyejoo hears the doorbell ring a little earlier than usual. When she opens the door, Hyunjin shoves two boxes of take-out in her arms and walks into the apartment like she owns the place. Behind her, Heejin shoots the younger girl an apologetic smile and follows Hyunjin. They both seem to be in a _very_ good mood, which is—not common, to say the least. But they brought fried chicken from Hyejoo’s favourite place, so she’s not going to complain.

While they set the table to eat, Chaewon’s phone starts ringing. She excuses herself to take the call, the light frown on her face making it obvious that this is a serious call. Although Hyejoo continues helping Heejin and Hyunjin to get everything done, she makes sure to keep an eye on the older girl. Just in case.

A few minutes later, Heejin and Hyunjin fight for one particular piece of fried chicken, and Hyejoo keeps watching Chaewon. She isn’t talking—only occasionally muttering a low “I see” or humming in agreement—but rather listening.

“It was my brother,” Chaewon says with long sigh, right after having hung up. Her shoulders are slumping. “His girlfriend just broke up with him.”

Hyejoo has known Chaewon’s brother all her life, too. He’s a really sweet guy—at least she seemed so when Hyejoo was younger—and a loving older brother. Even when he graduated university and started working, he made sure to send a postcard every now and then. Him and Chaewon have always been very close, so it’s understandable that she looks so affected.

“Ouch,” Hyunjin says, “bad breakup?”

“Yeah,” Chaewon nods, and Hyunjin grimaces. Heejin sees the chance to take the piece of chicken she wanted and snatches it from the plate before Hyunjin can do anything about it. As usual, they start bickering.

“Is he okay?” Hyejoo asks, cautious. Break ups can really take a toll on someone; Hyejoo remembers when her sister’s first boyfriend broke up with her and she spent almost three weeks sulking around the house.

“He will be,” Chaewon says, shrugging. She doesn’t sound like she believes her own words. When she notices Hyejoo opening her mouth to ask more questions, she claps her hands excitedly and says, voice a little too chirpy: “Anyways, let’s eat! I’m starving.”

Hyejoo isn’t quite convinced, but decides to let it slide because Heejin and Hyunjin start to complain about university and suddenly the conversation has completely changed. (They stopped fighting after Heejin offered Hyunjin to split that piece of chicken in two. Which shouldn’t have been surprising, but still made Hyejoo roll her eyes). The four of them banter until they’re done eating and then, Heejin and Hyunjin settle comfortably on the couch while Chaewon turns on the TV in order to look for something interesting to watch.

With a rerun episode of Hotel del Luna playing in the background, Hyunjin starts poking Chaewon’s back, trying to get her attention.

“Hey,” she says. “You didn’t tell us how your date went the other day.”

“Right!” Heejin grins. She tries to get closer to Chaewon, but Hyunjin’s head is on her lap, so there’s not much she can do. Not like she wants Hyunjin to move. “How did it go? Did you have fun? Are you two going out again?”

The word ‘date’ is a slap across the face for Hyejoo. Her grip around her chopsticks tightens, her jaw clenches ever so slightly. Of course Chaewon is having dates, why wouldn’t she? It’s not like the possibility of her dating hadn’t crossed Hyejoo’s mind, but rather that she had decided to willingly ignore it. If it’s not real, it can’t hurt you, right?

“Oh, that,” Chaewon says, an attempt of a smile on her lips. She hesitates before speaking. “Yeah. I—I just… We didn’t go out.”

“ _Whaaaaat?_ ” Both Heejin and Hyunjin ask at the same time, the tone in their voices extremely disappointed.

Meanwhile, Hyejoo feels her body relax a bit. If they were seriously going to talk about Chaewon’s date, she didn’t want her friends to see her reaction. Hyejoo is sure that even after all these years, Chaewon can probably still see through her.

Staring at the table as if it were the most interesting object in the world, Chaewon says nothing.

Hyunjin, never too shy to ask the hardest questions, is the first to speak. “Why not?”

“Yeah, she seemed such a nice girl! She obviously liked you a lot,” Heejin adds, almost whining.

The word _girl_ gives Hyejoo something akin to whiplash. Emotional whiplash, at least.

She feels dizzy for a second, her head swimming. For a second, Hyejoo thinks she might faint right there.

This _cannot_ possibly be happening.

Hyejoo clenches her fist so hard that she can almost feel the chopsticks start to leave a mark. She wants to see Chaewon’s reaction but—she doesn’t look up. Can’t bring herself to. Instead, she stares at the take-out boxes and tries to remember how to breathe. In; one, two, three. Out; one, two, three. In, one—one girl. Chaewon almost went on a date with a _girl_. Was she the first one? Or was Chaewon just trying to experiment? Why did she cancel the date? Why didn’t she tell Heejin and Hyunjin?

Why didn’t she tell Hyejoo?

At the question, Chaewon inhales sharply, as if she has just taken a punch on the stomach. Very similar to what Hyejoo is feeling right now.

“So?” Heejin asks, one eyebrow raised with playful curiosity. Completely unaware of how Hyejoo’s mind is going at miles per hour right now, trying to let this sink in.

Hyunjin doesn’t even bat an eye. Doesn’t even react to the question.

So. Heejin and Hyunjin obviously have known this for a while now. How long? Why do they know, but Hyejoo doesn’t? Who else knows? Was Chaewon planning on ever telling Hyejoo? Was this supposed to be a secret? It doesn’t sound like a secret. Heejin and Hyunjin’s body language doesn’t show that they have just revealed a secret. It shows that they’re having a normal conversation with their friend—a conversation about a topic they’ve probably talked about plenty of times before.

Chaewon opens her mouth to speak.

“Bathroom,” Hyejoo blurts out, getting up as fast as she can. It doesn’t even sound like herself—it’s like she’s watching things unfold from outside. Like this isn’t happening to her. Like this isn’t real. It _can’t_ be real.

Without another word, Hyejoo sprints all the way towards the bathroom and locks herself there.

She splashes her face with cold water and looks in the mirror. Stares at herself for a brief moment, at her own reflection glaring back at her. She almost can’t recognize the person she sees in the mirror—the pale face, the dark eyes, the shaky hands. This version of herself is definitely not what she had hoped to become. This person looking at her cannot possibly be the same Hyejoo who moved to a big city and started to build up the confidence she had lacked all her life.

The Hyejoo in the mirror is nothing like that. She’s just _scared_.

There was a fear that Hyejoo had buried deep within her, a fear she believed she had forgotten once Chaewon decided to get out of her life for good. A fear that had followed her around like her own shadow during her teenage years, a little voice in the darkest part of her mind.

Maybe Chaewon would have never felt the same way about Hyejoo, but that was because Chaewon was straight. She didn’t like Hyejoo as she would never like any other girl in her life. That was what Hyejoo had told herself time and again.

But—it was a lie. All this time, that has never been true. If Chaewon didn’t like her back it wasn’t because Hyejoo was a girl. No. It was much worse—it was because she simply didn’t like her.

That is a much harder to swallow pill.

“Get a fucking grip, Hyejoo,” she growls at her reflection, more aggressive than she has ever been towards anyone. She splashes some more water on her face for good measure, hoping it’ll help her cool down a bit.

She doesn’t know how long she’s been locked in here, but she should probably go back to the living room before the other girls start to worry.

As if nothing had happened, her friends are still watching TV when Hyejoo finally decides to come out of the bathroom. Hyunjin’s head still rests comfortably on Heejin’s lap, and neither of them asks any questions. However, Chaewon glances at Hyejoo, a worried expression on her face. Hyejoo can’t even bring herself to look at her in the eye, so she just stares at the TV. Though she hates dramas, she’ll do anything before she has to face Chaewon again after this. _Anything_.

Heejin and Hyunjin end up leaving not long after, when Hyunjin starts dozing off. They help Hyejoo and Chaewon clean up before they go, probably having sensed the tension that has started to settle in the room. Once again, Hyejoo blames herself for that.

In the silence that fills the apartment after their two friends have left, Hyejoo can only think _she never liked you she never liked you she never liked you_.

Maybe she should just sleep this off.

“Hyejoo.” Chaewon’s voice calls from behind her, making Hyejoo’s whole body freeze. She doesn’t feel ready to have a conversation with her—specially not about the _dating girls_ topic.

“Yeah?” Hyejoo asks shakily, and it probably sound like she’s about to cry. Which, to be honest, seems quite possible right now.

“Are you mad at me?”

 _Yes, I am_ , Hyejoo wants to say. Instead, she presses her lips together, holding back the words. Because, yeah, she _is_ mad—but not at Chaewon.

Hyejoo is mad at herself for thinking she was entitled to know Chaewon’s truth when the older girl didn’t feel comfortable enough to share it with her. She is mad at herself for being selfish—because she has just learnt this huge secret that Chaewon had probably been hiding all her life, and the only thing she can think about is herself. She is mad because all of her friends seem to be out and proud, and she’s still the only one who can’t even acknowledge what she is out loud. She is mad because she had spent years telling herself that Chaewon could never love her the way she wanted her to, and she’s just now realising that she was wrong.

So she turns around and smiles at Chaewon. “I’m not mad, Chaewon. I—I’m glad you get to be yourself freely now,” she tells her. And although it almost hurts to say, she means every word.

Before Chaewon can respond, Hyejoo walks into her room and slams the door closed behind her. After taking a long, deep breath, she sits on the floor, her back against the door and allows herself to be mad. Just for one night—tomorrow, she’ll be happy about Chaewon. Tonight, she’s going to be mad and she’s going to be sad and she’s going to have to face reality: Chaewon likes girls; Chaewon dates girls; Chaewon loves girls, even. And Hyejoo has never been one of those girls.

It’s about time she accepts it.

Hyejoo has never stood a chance.

* * *

Sooyoung thinks nobody knows, but Hyejoo does.

Realising that she might be Not Straight (she still is too scared to call herself _the L word_ ) not only brings Hyejoo a lot of existential dread, but also the realisation that there might be more people _like her_. And that realisation is almost life-changing, almost like finding life in outer space, because—she’s not alone in this. Not anymore.

Ha Sooyoung ticked all the boxes, and then some more. In all fairness, it wasn’t that Sooyoung was unapologetically open about her sexuality—which, to a certain point, she truly was. Rather, it was a particularly fateful progression of events that started with Hyejoo oversleeping and ended with Hyejoo being late to her dance class, which also meant her being the last to leave. No, scratch that—it ended with Hyejoo, cheeks burning red, hiding behind the door of the class after having seen Sooyoung and the pretty foreign blonde, Lisa. Sooyoung and Lisa, in a corner of the dance studio, faces so close that they couldn’t possibly be talking. Faces so close, like Hyejoo had daydreamed so many times about so many girls—the ones she saw on TV and magazines, the ones she saw around her and the ones she had yet to see but she had already dreamed about.

Perhaps it’s because she doesn’t know Sooyoung that much, besides the fact that she’s beautiful and older and _like her_. Perhaps it’s because she feels like there isn’t anyone else she can tell this. But when Hyejoo feels reality bubble up inside her, threatening to explode at any minute like a ticking bomb, she decides to talk to Sooyoung. If she’s going to come out for the first time, terrifying as it may sound, it might as well be to someone who will understand what she’s been going through.

“Oh,” Sooyoung mutters after she turns around and notices Hyejoo standing on the doorway of the dance studio, not daring to come in. She smiles warmly, like she always does. “Hello, Hyejoo, I didn’t notice you were still here. Did you need something?”

Hyejoo doesn’t say anything for a few seconds, looking for the best way to put her thoughts into words—she’s never said it out loud before, she doesn’t know how, doesn’t have the courage.

Sooyoung arches her brows, still waiting for an answer, so instead of getting straight to the point, Hyejoo tries to test the waters first, see how Sooyoung reacts.

“I’ve seen you two. I don’t think anyone else has noticed, but I did.”

“What?” Sooyoung frowns, lips curled in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Lisa,” she says cautiously, and watches as Sooyoung’s expression shifts. From confusion to… something else. Not fear; not yet, at least. But something else—wariness, maybe. “I’ve seen you two. Last week. I—I was late and forgot my keys here. And I saw you…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, letting Sooyoung guess. It might seem like she’s playing with her but, in reality, Hyejoo simply doesn’t dare to say the words out loud—she fears someone might eavesdrop. Someone who might not know how to keep a secret.

“Okay.” As she nods, Sooyoung’s face changes again. It’s impossible to see what she’s thinking. “You saw us. Alright. I don’t really understand where this is going exactly.”

Her recent realisation has also brought a new understanding of other people’s words. When the host of that American TV show her mother likes so much says something is ‘ _gay_ ’, he means it’s ‘ _bad, ridiculous_ ’. When her classmates in school ask her ‘ _have you ever had a crush on a boy?_ ’ while they’re changing their clothes for P.E., they mean ‘ _you are not one of those disgusting girls who like other girls, right?_ ’. When Sooyoung says, one eyebrow arched and arms crossed over her chest, ‘ _I don’t really understand where this is going exactly’_ , she means ‘ _please don’t go around telling others, it’d ruin my life_.’

Hyejoo understands the fear. In a way, she’s fascinated by the fact that Sooyoung is also afraid. It’s both a relief and a terrible thing to know. If Sooyoung, who is older and smart and beautiful, is afraid, how frightening must the world be?

“I’m not going to tell anyone, don’t worry,” she says, finally walking into the classroom and closing the door behind her after she makes sure there’s nobody around to interrupt. “But you’re… I—I need to talk to you.”

Sooyoung’s shoulders relax, her expression softening. She gets closer to Hyejoo and wraps an arm around her when she notices she’s shaking slightly. Although she still hasn’t said a word, Hyejoo is pretty sure Sooyoung already knows what she’s going to tell her—this is like their secret language, after all. The secret language of people who can’t be themselves openly in fear of what might happen if others find out. Of the people who are always the punchline of the joke. Of the girls who have to kiss in empty classrooms because they can’t get caught. Of the girls who can’t even admit what they are to themselves.

“I think… I—I think I might be…”

Still, she can’t bring herself to say it. Because if she says it out loud, it becomes real. Once it’s real, there’s no turning back—there’s no more running from reality. Hyejoo is so tired of running, though. She feels like she’s been doing it all her life, carrying a heavy weight on her back, and she can never stop running even when all breath has been knocked out of her lungs.

“How did you know you were… Uh. You know. That you liked…” Hyejoo asks instead, going for something that’s easier to say. The last word comes out of her in a whisper. “… _girls_?”

Sooyoung sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She frowns, like she’s thinking very hard about something. Probably about how to put everything that she has been through in words. Hyejoo thinks that, if it were her in Sooyoung’s place, she wouldn’t be able to do it.

“Come here, kid,” Sooyoung says as she sits down on the floor, back pressed against one of the mirrors that covers the wall of the dance studio. She pats the empty spot next to her, her smile welcoming and warm.

Hyejoo obliges and sits at a cautious distance, feeling incredibly small next to Sooyoung.

“Growing up,” Sooyoung starts, her eyes fixed on the ceiling, “things were—like, different. As if I knew I didn’t really fit with others, y’know? You’ve probably been going through the same shit, of course you know.” She chuckles bitterly. “I’m pretty sure I’ve known all my life.”

Hyejoo nods, mouth slightly dry. This—what Sooyoung is telling her, her own story, her own version of the events—feels incredibly private. A huge secret that only Hyejoo gets to know.

“I never had any interest in boys. Had some friends who were boys, yeah, but that was about it. I couldn’t bring myself to have _feelings_ for them. When I was about ten or so, I had my first crush on a girl—well. I mean, it wasn’t what you could consider a real crush, I guess? All my friends were really into male idols, while I was obsessed with Wonder Girls. When people asked me if I had a crush, I told them it was Sunmi.” They both laugh, Hyejoo feeling a little less tense than she did when she walked into the studio. “And then, after my friends started to date boys, I knew instantly I didn’t want any of that.”

“I—I’ve been there,” Hyejoo says. Sooyoung smiles, a smile that goes all the way up to her eyes, and ruffles Hyejoo’s hair. It reminds Hyejoo of Minjoo, her older sister. Makes her feel a bit safer.

“It takes time. For some, it takes all their life to come to terms with it. But for me,” she lets out a long breath, “I’ve always known. I mean—it’s not something you can really choose.”

Hyejoo wishes this were a choice. She wishes she didn’t have to be here, sitting next to a girl she barely knows, about to tell her the secret that has been eating her insides like a parasite. Hyejoo wishes she could choose not to be herself. But no matter how much she wishes, she’s still Hyejoo. And she needs to start getting used to it.

Biting her lip, she looks up at Sooyoung and tries to be brave.

“I’m like—like you,” she says, before she panics and adds, “I think. I d-don’t know.” It’s a lie. She does know. Much like Sooyoung, she has probably known all her life. “And I’m—I don’t know what to do.”

“Have you told anyone else?”

Hyejoo doesn’t reply, her gaze fixed on her lap. With a small sigh, Sooyoung moves closer to her and rests a hand on top of Hyejoo’s, reassuring and understanding.

Silence. On the other side of the door, a mix of excited voices and quick steps can be heard—the last students to have class today are leaving. Hyejoo decides to wait until there’s barely any noise around them to continue the conversation. For some reason, Sooyoung holding her hand seems to help her calm down.

“How did your family react?” Hyejoo dares to ask, voice low and shaky. “I-if you told them, I mean.”

“Well, it’s… It’s hard to tell, actually.” Sooyoung makes a pause, like she’s never thought about it before. “I think they kind of saw it coming, so they didn’t make a big fuss about it.”

She says it almost like it means nothing. So casual. _They didn’t make a big fuss about it_. But there’s something in her voice, a certain kind of hesitation when she says it, the same slight pause you make when you’re saying a half-truth—you feel the slight guilt of lying, even if you’re not a liar.

“But…?” Hyejoo starts, not wanting to be too invasive, but well aware that Sooyoung needs a little push to continue her story.

Sooyoung smiles, something tired and a bit sad in the way her lips curl. “But it did change our relationship. Don’t worry, I wasn’t kicked out of the house or anything like that. They—they didn’t stop loving me, if that’s what you’re scared of.”

Of course, Sooyoung hits the nail on the head: that is exactly what terrifies Hyejoo the most. The one thing that keeps her awake every other night. Maybe it’s not the fear of being herself, but the fear that being herself can stop people for loving her.

“What if my parents stop loving me, though? What if my sister hates me? I—I don’t… Sooyoung, I don’t want my family to hate me,” she says rather desperately, as if Sooyoung could do anything to fix that.

“I can’t make you any promises about that, Hyejoo. I know it’s terrifying.” Sooyoung takes a deep breath. “I don’t think my family hates me, even if they’re… not entirely okay with who I am. It’s just…” she says, the words getting stuck going up. “Sometimes, when they look at me, there’s… Like a split second where they have to remind themselves that it’s me, and that they _do_ love me.”

It’s easier to imagine than it seems. Hyejoo can almost picture it—the look on her parents’ eyes when she tells them (if she ever tells them), seeing her for the first time. Seeing the real her. No secrets, no façade. Just… Hyejoo.

She isn’t sure they can handle _just Hyejoo_.

“That’s just—that’s horrible.”

Sooyoung nods in acknowledgment. “I really don’t want to lie to you, Hyejoo. It is. To be honest, that’s why I moved here with my aunt in the first place. I just… It became too much. Some days, it was just too much.”

Too much. Hyejoo knows what _too much_ feels like.

Sooyoung scoots closer. Feeling the stinging of tears, Hyejoo hides her face against Sooyoung’s collarbone, lets the older girl wrap her arms around her in a comforting hug. Hyejoo sniffs, tears clinging to her eyelashes. “I’m scared,” she finally admits, voice muffled against Sooyoung’s shirt. “I don’t know what to do. I—I’m just _so_ scared.”

“I know,” Sooyoung says, running her fingers through Hyejoo’s hair. It might be because she can’t see her, but Hyejoo would swear she’s crying too. “I know. But it gets better. One day, it all gets better.”

Hyejoo doesn’t ask when. Doesn’t ask how. She doesn’t need to. Call it suspension of disbelief, call it hope. All she does is believe Sooyoung, and repeats the words to herself, prays that they’ll becomes true someday, somehow.

It gets better, it gets better, it gets better.

* * *

Just a week before Hyejoo’s birthday, Sooyoung barges in their apartment looking suspiciously eager.

“Get ready, girls! We’re leaving!” She announces after loudly slamming the door open.

Hyejoo regrets having given the older girl a spare key for emergencies, as she always uses it to come in the worst possible moments. This is one of them: Hyejoo is laying on the floor, all of her class notes scattered around her like a halo. She should be studying, but instead she’s been staring at the ceiling of the living room, hoping that if keeps her notes close to her, she’ll be able to somehow memorize them without actually having to bother to read them.

“Who is _we_?” Hyejoo asks with a sigh, glaring at Sooyoung from the floor but not moving an inch.

“Well, it’s obviously _you_ ,” Sooyoung says, pointing at her, “and Chaewon. I know she’s hiding somewhere.”

Chaewon’s head pokes from her bedroom, hair messy and a tired look on her eyes. Much like Hyejoo, she’s been quite busy with exams, spending most of her time locked in her room, studying. Though she looks like she hasn’t gotten any proper sleep in days, she perks up noticeably at the sight of Sooyoung.

“Where are we going?” Chaewon asks, clearly more excited about the prospect of going with Sooyoung than about studying. Not that Hyejoo can blame her—she would rather sit down and listen to Jinsol talk about hake mating than study one more minute.

Sooyoung smirks. “Can’t tell you. It’s a surprise.” She winks her eye obnoxiously and Hyejoo groans. Meanwhile, Chaewon disappears back into her room, following Sooyoung’s orders. “But I’m going to need you to get changed into something nice. You can’t go out wearing your pyjamas.”

“I can and I will,” Hyejoo says, still staring blankly at the ceiling.

“C’mon,” Sooyoung says, poking Hyejoo with her foot playfully. “Chaewon is getting ready. Get your lazy ass up and do the same.”

“Hyejoo, please!” Chaewon’s soft voice calls from her room. And Hyejoo, who was about to say something mean, closes her mouth, teeth gritted.

Sooyoung cracks one of her annoying grins and Hyejoo gets up from the floor before she makes any kind of comment. She isn’t sure whether Sooyoung has noticed how she acts around Chaewon, but if she has—Hyejoo doesn’t really want to find out. Not now. Or ever.

Glowering at Sooyoung, she grabs all her class notes before she goes to her room to get changed. Since Sooyoung is acting so mysterious about where she’s taking them, Hyejoo isn’t sure what to wear, so she stares at her closet for a couple of minutes until she makes up her mind.

Sooyoung is probably just feeling generous and wants to treat them for dinner. When she’s not being a pain in the ass, she can be quite nice. (But Hyejoo would never tell her that, or else she will never hear the end of it.)

After changing into a comfortable hoodie and skinny jeans, Hyejoo takes a look at herself in the mirror. Sooyoung told her to change into “something nice”, whatever that means. To be honest, Hyejoo doesn’t really know if she feels _nice_ when her reflection glares back at her. Sighing tiredly, she grabs her phone and walks out of her room. There’s no time for self-consciousness now.

In the living room, Sooyoung and Chaewon are waiting for her, squeezed on the little couch. Hyejoo’s stomach does the equivalent of a triple somersault when she notices the blonde is wearing a cute floral dress.

“Aww, cute! You two are matching,” Sooyoung coos, making both girls frown. “E-girl and VSCO girl!”

Chaewon lets out a loud laugh, slaps Sooyoung’s arm playfully. It wasn’t even that good of a joke, but Chaewon always seems to find everything Sooyoung says hilarious. Most of the time, Hyejoo just think it’s obnoxious. Still, she allows herself to crack a small smile.

“Okay, enough joking for today,” Sooyoung says, getting up from the couch. “Let’s get going, shall we?”

After sharing a confused look, Chaewon and Hyejoo follow Sooyoung out of their apartment. The older girl walks faster than usual, constantly glancing at her phone, as if she was in a rush to get wherever it is they’re going as fast as possible.

On the subway ride to their mysterious location, Sooyoung starts tapping her foot nervously.

“Hey, I forgot something at home,” she says, fidgeting with her phone. “Do you mind if we stop there for a second?”

Hyejoo sighs and almost groans, but holds herself back. The train they’re riding stops near Sooyoung’s place, so it won’t take a lot of time. “Sure. Why not,” she says, making sure to sound slightly annoyed.

Chaewon just nods and Sooyoung smiles—and it looks almost like a smirk, which makes Hyejoo’s brow arch suspiciously. Sooyoung is acting weird today. Well, Sooyoung always acts weird, but this… this is weirder than usual.

The walk from the subway station to Sooyoung’s apartment is rather quiet, as the older girl seems to be in a bit of a hurry for them to get there. Chaewon links her arm with Hyejoo’s in an attempt to be able to keep up with the other two girls—as they have longer legs and are, therefore, faster than her—and Hyejoo silently forgives Sooyoung for making them take a detour. For good measure, she slows down her pace a bit, and can almost swear that Chaewon shoots her a thankful smile.

Hyejoo’s suspicions only grow bigger as they stand at the door of Sooyoung’s place and she hears a loud mumbling behind. The apartment is usually full of people but this—this is not normal. The noise is louder, messier. Hyejoo is pretty sure she hears Jiwoo yell “Everyone shut up! They’re almost here!”

The door clicks open, almost in slow motion. Sooyoung turns around, a devilish grin on her face, and pushes both Chaewon and Hyejoo inside the apartment.

“SURPRISE!” A chorus of voices echoes without much synchronization.

Hyejoo can barely process the sight of all of her friends smiling at her, because in the blink of an eye she’s being literally tackled to the ground in a hug.

Her back hits the floor—and she’ll probably wake up with a bruise tomorrow—while two pairs of arms embrace her and a mix of voices yells in her ears. It might be the blow from the fall, or the fact that these two people are making it hard for her to breathe, but Hyejoo starts to feel a little lightheaded.

“I—I can’t,” she tries to say, her voice coming out in a growl. “Guys. I can’t—I—can’t breathe!”

With a loud, worried gasp, the two people get up almost instantly. After taking a deep breath, Hyejoo sits up and watches the worried expression on her friends’ faces.

“HYEJOO,” a familiar voice yells, “ARE YOU OKAY!?”

Slightly bewildered, Hyejoo blinks a couple of times. Staring back at her, brows knitted in concern, she sees Yeojin and Yerim. Hyejoo’s eyes go wide when she realises—Yeojin and Yerim are here. They are here. Her two best friends are here, in front of her. They are here, in Seoul, in Sooyoung’s apartment.

It’s barely been three months since they last saw each other in person, bit Yeojin already looks so grown up. Her hair is a bit shorter, which makes her look more mature, and she has the same sparkle in her eyes. Hyejoo would swear she has grown a couple of centimetres.

And Yerim—Hyejoo can’t even believe Yerim is here. She had assumed they wouldn’t see each other in six months (although the three of them skyped pretty often), so seeing Yerim in front of her, face-to-face, feels almost like a fever dream.

Without thinking, it’s Hyejoo who tackles them into a hug this time, making the three of them fall onto the floor again. Yerim and Yeojin bark a laugh and return the gesture, wrapping their arms around Hyejoo eagerly into a tight embrace.

“What are you—oh my god, what are you guys doing here?” Hyejoo almost yells, holding on for dear life to her friends.

“Had a long weekend and decided to come home,” Yerim says simply, tightly squeezed between her two friends. She sounds like she’s getting emotional, and Hyejoo reaches to pat her head softly. Yerim scoots closer.

Yeojin frees herself from Hyejoo’s tight embrace, a grin on her lips. “We are celebrating,” she says, pointing to the little plastic crown on top of her head.

“Celebrating…?” Hyejoo begins with a slight frown.

“Our birthdays!” Yeojin says, jumping up and down excitedly.

Behind them, seated around Sooyoung’s tea table, all of her friends are looking at them. They are wearing tiny party hats—except for Hyunjin, who looks very smug in her tiny crown—and they all seem to be very happy about Hyejoo’s positive reaction. Blushing a bit, she looks up and glances at Sooyoung, who simply beams at her and hands her a little crown, very similar to the one Yeojin and Hyunjin are wearing.

It’s only then that Hyejoo realises—her birthday is in a week, but so is Yeojin’s. And a few days after that, Hyunjin’s. And then…

“Chaewon!”

Both Yeojin and Yerim jump from Hyejoo’s arms to Chaewon’s, and to nobody’s surprise, they all end up on the floor as well. If Hyejoo could barely take the blow, she isn’t sure Chaewon can survive. But her soft giggles can be heard even though she’s buried under Yerim and Yeojin’s embrace, so Hyejoo doesn’t worry.

With more people than ever, the apartment has been transformed into a strange mixture of a birthday party and

They all eventually settle around the room, everyone focused on different conversations and games. There are no presents because, according to Haseul, it’s not their official birthday yet. However, after half an hour or so, Jinsol—who had not been there for the surprise—appears out of the blue, carrying a huge cake in her arms.

Holding each other’s hands tightly, the birthday girls blow the candles out.

“Don’t forget to make a wish,” Vivi says, watching her friends with the biggest smile on her face.

A wish. Hyejoo hadn’t really thought of any birthday wishes for this year. But being surrounded by all her friends, feeling loved and welcomed, she closes her eyes and doesn’t hesitate for a second before making her wish.

“ _Please,”_ she thinks, not letting go of her friends’ hands just yet, _“let this happiness last forever.”_

* * *

(“How did you come up with this?” Hyejoo whispers, watching as Jiwoo and Chaewon challenge each other on a dance battle.

Sooyoung arches a curious brow. “What do you mean?”

“I know this whole thing was probably your idea,” Hyejoo says. She notices how Sooyoung’s smile becomes a little more serious.

“It was actually Heejin’s. She wanted to do something special for Hyunjin’s birthday,” Sooyoung explains, glancing at Heejin, who is recording Jiwoo and Chaewon with her phone. The video will probably come out a mess—she’s on the floor, laughing so hard that her whole body is shaking. “We knew that your birthdays were really close together, and when we tried to contact your friends Haseul told us that Yeojin was also born around the same time, so…” She shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “I mean. This is the best we could do. But it’s nice, isn’t it?”

Hyejoo nods and holds back the impulse of walking to Heejin and giving her the biggest hug in the world. She holds back the impulse of crying and saying _thank you thank you thank_ you. She takes a deep breath, observes all her friends around her, everyone in their little bubble.

Jiwoo and Chaewon continue dancing ridiculously—now doing a parody of _Coming of Age Ceremony_ —and are soon joined by Yerim and Yeojin. Still on the floor, Heejin has given up on recording a decent video and is now just laughing, tears on the corner of her eyes. Hyunjin watches the dance battle while feasting on some croissants that Haseul bought from a fancy bakery downtown. Trying to tease her best friend, Jungeun corrects Jiwoo’s attempts to get the choreography right despite her being the only one doing a decent job.

Around the tea table, Jinsol, Haseul and Vivi play a very intense game of _Uno_. Although Jinsol tries to take advantage of the way her friends get distracted by the dance battle to cheat and secure her victory, Vivi is clearly the better player and wins every single game without breaking a sweat. Sooyoung cheers on Haseul, who isn’t very lucky with her cards, and Jinsol points an accusing finger to her, calling her ‘biased’.

Everything is loud, and chaotic, and even though this is supposed to be a birthday party, no one is doing any real celebration. But this is the most at home Hyejoo has ever felt in a very, very long time.

“Thank you,” she says to no one in particular, wiping a lonely tear before anyone notices.

She means it one hundred percent.)

* * *

After a couple of hours, Jinsol suggests that they watch a movie together, while Sooyoung says that they should instead do something more fun. Hyejoo understands her point: usually, when the girls get together to watch a movie, most of them end up passed out on the floor halfway through it.

"Let's play Never Have I Ever!" Haseul proposes, oddly excited.

A loud groan echoes through the room. The negative reaction makes Haseul’s face fall a bit, but Vivi and Jungeun are quick to pat her back, saying that her idea isn’t that bad.

"C’mon!" Heejin says, resting her head on Hyunjin's shoulder with a pout. “What are we, twelve?"

Without missing a beat, Hyunjin says matter-of-factly, "Yeojin is.” Her eyes turn to the younger girl, amused and obviously expecting to spark a reaction.

Before Yeojin can even open her mouth, Sooyoung speaks, arms crossed over her chest and a slight frown on her face.

“Hey, don't be mean, Hyunjin," she scolds, making Hyunjin roll her eyes. Nobody likes it when Sooyoung decides to act like a mom. However, the older girl’s serious expression starts to crack into a grin when she adds, "She's turning thirteen this year."

Haseul has to physically restrain Yeojin from jumping Sooyoung, though the younger girl still manages to throw a cushion at Sooyoung. She somehow blocks it mid-air, and Yeojin gets up, fuming, and points at Sooyoung, then at Hyunjin.

"First of all, I'm sixteen. Second of all, I'm going to murder you in your sleep," she growls, and the older girls just giggle. Hyejoo laughs too, although she knows not to take Yeojin’s threat as empty words—when they don’t expect it, Yeojin will probably claim her revenge. And Hyejoo will be very amused to watch.

They all keep fighting about what to do next (because Sooyoung and Jinsol keep suggesting drinking games that Haseul would _never_ allow if Yeojin is involved) until Heejin suddenly proposes to play Strip Uno and everyone unanimously agrees. Yeojin, being the youngest, gets to choose who strips in case she loses, which Hyejoo knows is dangerous.

Not wanting to be involved with this game in particular, Hyejoo excuses herself, claiming that she wants something to drink, and sneaks into the kitchen. Her social battery is reaching its limit—she needs some minutes to recover. Take a deep breath and snap out of it.

But. There’s something else—something that has been bothering her for a while. Even with all her friends messing around her, even with the loud yelling and Yeojin and Hyunjin fighting each other.

Chaewon is nowhere to be seen. Hasn’t been for a while, actually. She said she was going to the bathroom—Hyejoo makes sure to look for her there, with no results—and she still hasn’t come back from wherever she has gone. Hyejoo could swear she heard the front door open and close at a certain point, but she doesn’t think Chaewon would leave like this. Not her own surprise birthday party.

“She’s in the rooftop.”

The words are a soft, but they still manage to startle Hyejoo, almost making her drop the glass of water she’s holding. When she turns around, she sees Vivi standing under the threshold of the kitchen door, her expression unreadable. That’s a talent of hers: no matter what, it’s almost impossible to tell what goes on in Vivi’s mind. Just one of the many reasons why she intimidates Hyejoo so much—that and the fact that she’s insanely pretty, because Hyejoo has a hard time functioning around girls in general and pretty girls in particular.

“I’m—what?” Hyejoo says, trying not to sound too dumb.

“Chaewon,” Vivi says, walking into the kitchen. “She’s in the rooftop.”

Hyejoo’s mind goes blank for a second, and then she understands. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll distract them,” Vivi says, winking an eye. These are the things that make her the best person in the world—she understands others without words. In her next life, all Hyejoo wants is to be half as smart as Vivi is.

Hyejoo sneaks out of the apartment with Yeojin and Sooyoung yelling in the living room, an echo of laughter mixed with soft music in the background. Before she leaves, she sees Vivi smile encouragingly at her.

It’ll take a while before they notice she’s gone.

She climbs the stairs, two steps at a time, wondering why Chaewon wanted to leave. Wondering if sometimes Chaewon simply feels like running away from things.

Just as Vivi said, Hyejoo finds Chaewon in the rooftop, sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees.

“Hey,” Hyejoo calls softly, not quite daring to approach Chaewon.

Startled, Chaewon turns her head and looks at Hyejoo, brows arched in surprise. It’s pretty obvious that she didn’t expect anyone to come looking for her, and Hyejoo considers turning around to leave; she doesn’t want to bother Chaewon.

But the older girl is looking at her with curious eyes, a gentle smile on her lips, and it’s almost an invitation to share this moment with her.

“What are you doing here?” Hyejoo asks, trying to shake the blush away from her cheeks. She feels quite awkward right now. “You’re missing Strip Uno. Hyunjin is one game away from turning this into an R rated party.”

“Heejin must be having a blast, then,” Chaewon jokes. She moves slightly to the side, waiting for Hyejoo to sit next to her.

As she sits down, Hyejoo opens her mouth to make a witty comment about how Heejin was literally drooling, but decides against it. This is the most they’ve communicated ever since that dinner with Heejin and Hyunjin. Talking about how surprisingly buff Hyunjin is doesn’t seem like the best thing to do right now. There’re certain issues they should discuss—although Hyejoo doesn’t know how to bring them up in a conversation.

The discovery that Chaewon likes girls—that Chaewon has liked girls all her life—still hasn’t sunk in. If she has to be totally honest, she’s a little hurt that Chaewon didn’t share that with her. Hyejoo doesn’t want to be selfish, because she understands—this is Chaewon’s truth, and she’s the one who chooses when and who she wants to share it with.

Still, a part of Hyejoo is disappointed. Disappointed that, even after all they’ve been through, Chaewon still hasn’t chosen her.

They remain silent for a while. The sky is cloudless, and if it weren’t for the lights of the city, there would probably millions of stars looking down at them. Chaewon’s gaze is fixed on the night sky, as if she was looking for something, while Hyejoo—although trying to play it off—only has eyes for her. As usual.

Hyejoo then notices how Chaewon is shaking slightly, the chilly air of the night creeping under her flowery summer dress. Without even thinking about it, she takes off her jacket and puts it around Chaewon’s shoulders. “Here. You’ll catch a cold.”

“Thanks,” Chaewon says, adjusting under the warm leather of Hyejoo’s jacket. She seems a bit taken aback, even though her words are honest.

There’s another long pause, and Hyejoo starts to believe that they will continue to be silent for the rest of the night. Not that she’s complaining—she likes this. Getting to be next to Chaewon, comfortably. Just the two of them.

“I didn’t think anyone would notice I was gone,” Chaewon murmurs suddenly, so low that it takes Hyejoo a moment to understand.

“Well, I pay attention to you,” She stops herself from saying anything else, mentally slapping herself. These are the kind of things she shouldn’t be saying. These are the kind of things she shouldn’t be thinking. Yet here she is, on top of a rooftop, making weird comments that Chaewon could definitely misunderstand.

But if Chaewon takes it the wrong way, she doesn’t show. Instead, she smiles and scoots a little closer to Hyejoo.

“Um, I just…” Chaewon begins, stumbling over her own words. “I—I felt kind of overwhelmed, you know?”

“Overwhelmed? Was it the surprise party or…?”

“No, no.” Chaewon shakes her head. “Just… The whole turning-a-year-older thing… That’s kind of stressing me out.”

“Having mid-life crisis at nineteen?” Hyejoo asks, nudging her shoulder. Her tone is playful, not mocking.

“I guess you could say so. It’s just—I don’t know. Do you ever just wonder what your life might have been like if you had done something differently?” Chaewon asks, her eyes fixed on the night sky as if it had the answer she was looking for.

What Hyejoo wants to say is: yes, Hyejoo wonders all the time. She spent almost all her life wondering if there was any chance that she could change who she is, who she loves. And when she managed to somehow accept it, she spent three years wondering if she could have stopped Chaewon from running away from her.

The real answer to this question is that all Hyejoo ever does is wonder.

What she says, however, is, “Yeah, I guess we all do, right?”

“To be honest, I—I didn’t want to go to university. I’m not even sure that I want right now, but… I don’t know. I just—don’t know what I want in life. I even considered pursuing an idol career,” Chaewon admits, avoiding Hyejoo’s gaze as if this piece of information embarrassed her. “Can you imagine? That’d have been so weird.”

It’s not hard to imagine—Chaewon becoming Korea’s it-girl. She could even rock a stage name if she wanted. She has the charm, the beauty, the talent. Hyejoo can picture it, can almost visualize Chaewon on a stage, singing and dancing to whatever song is #1 in the charts—because Chaewon’s music would definitely top all the charts—and having the entire country (and maybe even the world) at her feet.

Maybe that would have been better. Maybe Hyejoo wouldn’t have spent half of her teenage years pining for her. Chaewon being an idol would have meant she was simply out of reach for Hyejoo—that would have helped her get over her stupid crush.

“But you know what?” Chaewon says. “I’m glad none of that happened. I like things the way they are now. I… I like that we got to meet again.”

It doesn’t matter, anyway. Not anymore. Because Chaewon reaches for Hyejoo’s hand and intertwines their fingers together, like they did when they were kids—although this is not like when they were kids, not at all—and Hyejoo _knows_. She knows that if there ever were any chances that she’d get over this crush, Chaewon has just destroyed them with the touch of a hand.

“Me too,” Hyejoo mumbles. Her voice sounds miles away. Though she’s truly so, _so_ happy that she and Chaewon are together again, she’s also scared.

Hyejoo knows what a crush feels like. She knows this had started to feel like one a while ago but—what she feels when Chaewon holds her hand is different. Heavier. More dangerous.

And it shouldn’t have been so easy, tearing down all these walls Hyejoo had taken years to build. There’s a reason why we build walls, after all. There’s a reason why we take our feelings, our emotions, and all those things we don’t like about ourselves, and we crumple them like paper so as to make them disappear somewhere in a dark place in the back of our mind. There’s a reason why certain emotions need to be hidden, repressed. Some emotions are like air—they take all the space they can, and they keep taking. They take, take, take and take some more. For Hyejoo, walls are made to hide—to hide those feelings she knows are wrong, to hide that sharp, dark thing inside her that constantly tells her she’s not worth of anything, to hide herself.

Almost three years should have been enough to reinforce her walls, she thinks. But then Chaewon holds her hand and she feels and earthquake inside, every brick coming down, everything that once was trapped running free, taking until there’s nothing else to take. All that’s left are the remaining of the walls she once managed to build around her feelings, and every single emotion that Chaewon made— _makes_ —her feel.

This stopped being a crush a long time ago.

“C’mon, let’s get back inside.” Without letting go of Hyejoo’s hand, Chaewon gets up.

Hyejoo almost wants to ask her to stay. Just a little longer. Only one more minute—that’s all she wants. Another minute with Chaewon for herself. Something she has always wished for, and she knows she can’t have.

“Sure. Let’s go,” Hyejoo says and holds her hand a bit tighter. Begging that Chaewon gets the message, or at least part of it. That she understands that even if Hyejoo is taller and older now, she’s still that same kid.

Maybe Chaewon understands, because doesn’t let go of her hand. She squeezes it, smiling softly, and leads the way like she has done all her life.

And like she has done all her life as well, Hyejoo follows Chaewon.

* * *

Feelings come last, but they turn Hyejoo’s world upside down.

Summer arrives sunny and quiet, and brings with it the end of the school year and a new horizon of longer days and shorter nights, a landscape of sun and freedom ahead of Hyejoo. With summer also comes Chaewon, warm and bright as she has always been.

Their time together is short every summer, but somehow still feels like eternity. The countdown until Chaewon and her family visit is constantly ticking in the back of Hyejoo’s mind, a little something to look forward even in her worst days. When it reaches zero, meaning Chaewon is finally here, it only shifts into another countdown, a much more dreadful one—one that counts the days before Chaewon has to go and leave for another year.

Okay, so they only have ten days together. Chaewon, her parents and her brother arrive on a Monday morning. As usual, they are staying with Chaewon’s uncle, who lives in a huge house in the richest part of town. When they were kids, Hyejoo used to be quite jealous of Chaewon for being able to stay there, a house with a garden and two dogs and no older kids bothering her. Chaewon, however, always said that she liked staying at Hyejoo’s better—that it felt more like _home_. And Hyejoo never told her, but that made her feel a little proud.

Like clockwork, Hyejoo stands in front of Chaewon’s uncle’s house at lunchtime, waiting for her best friend to come out. It’s something like a ritual—Chaewon arrives, goes out for lunch with Hyejoo, and spends the rest of her little holiday with her.

They spend Monday together, planning what they are going to do for the rest of the week, catching up and eating ice cream while sitting under a tree, hiding away from the August sun.

Tuesday passes into Wednesday, which then turns into Thursday, and Hyejoo and Chaewon see each other every single day, except of Friday, when Chaewon goes to visit her grandma. (Hyejoo is too embarrassed to tell Chaewon that she’s quite sad that they don’t get to spend Friday together, too.)

Do adults even realise that summer is almost over and Hyejoo and Chaewon want to make the most out of it?

Chaewon comes back on Saturday and the following days come and go in a whirlwind of summer haze. They meet early in the morning for breakfast and then lock themselves up in Hyejoo’s room for a tournament of Smash which ultimately ends in a tie. After they get bored of playing, they sneak into the kitchen and eat ice cream while watching a drama on TV.

On Sunday, Yerim’s mom drives them to a water park nearby, about an hour from town. The excitement before the little adventure doesn’t let Hyejoo sleep a wink that night, but when she gets into Yerim’s mom’s car early in the morning, she feels more energetic than ever. The four of them—Hyejoo, Chaewon, Yerim and Yeojin—race each other in all the different pools until their legs start shaking and all their limbs hurt. After lunch, they hunt one another down around the place and only stop when Yerim’s mom confiscates their water guns after they accidentally soak an old lady who was taking a nap. On the drive back home, the four of them fall asleep on the car almost instantly, exhausted but the happiest they have been in a while. (Yerim’s mom takes a picture of them, Yerim in the front seat and the other three in the back, mouths hanging open and heads against each other’s. When she leaves, Chaewon takes a printed copy of it with her.)

The four of them—sometimes only Chaewon and Hyejoo—spend the rest of their days together playing videogames, taking long walks across town or idling under the fan at Hyejoo’s place to avoid the heat outside.

There is an abandoned building uptown that Yeojin has wanted to explore for a long time now, only one bus ride and a 20-minute walk away from them. Having unanimously chosen Chaewon as the unofficial fourth member of their ghost hunting team, they plan a day-long trip to the old building before she has to leave.

“I don’t think looking for ghosts in broad daylight is going to bear any results,” Chaewon says after a few minutes of marvelling at the destroyed walls of the place and running away from spiders. “Shouldn’t we come at night? Like, after witching hour and all that.”

Yeojin puts down her ghost detector (which she bought on the internet and has yet to show any signs of being functional) and glares at Chaewon like she has said the stupidest thing in the world. “Some of us have a curfew,” she deadpans.

“I think Chaewon is right,” Hyejoo says after kicking a small rock out of her way. She sticks her tongue out at Yeojin when she mumbles _‘Of course you do!’._ “Plus, I think this is like—private property or something? It’d be easier not to get caught at night.”

“Didn’t know you were a coward,” Yeojin says, defiantly.

“I’m not the one who doesn’t want to leave the house after dawn,” Hyejoo says with a shrug, trying not to crack a grin. Teasing her younger friend is always so much fun.

Yeojin puffs her cheeks. “I already told you, I have a curfew!”

“They’re right,” Yerim intercedes. She wraps an arm around Yeojin’s shoulders and pouts. “Plus, I’m hungry! Let’s get out of here and grab something to eat. We can come back later or—”

“No we can’t,” Yeojin mutters.

“…Or we can leave it for another time. Chaewon isn’t leaving until Wednesday, right?” Yerim finishes, looking at Chaewon for an answer, eyebrows raised.

Chaewon nods, a smile—not as bright as usual—on her lips. “Yeah, no need to worry. This place isn’t going anywhere. We have all the time in the world. Let’s grab something to eat, I’m starving,” she says, not too chirpy.

Yeojin sighs in defeat and follows the rest of her friends out the building. They have to hide for a couple of minutes to make sure that they don’t get caught—sure, the place may be abandoned, but none of them wants to get in trouble. It’s not like older people would understand that they were hunting ghosts and let them get away with it.

They get cold bubble tea and go to the nearest convenience store to buy some snacks. Since none of them knows the area well (except for Chaewon, who is a little more familiar with it because her uncle’s place is not that far away), they decide to walk around and explore a bit. It’s one of the hottest days of August so far, so they end up sitting under the shadow of a tree, eating while watching Vine compilations on Yerim’s phone.

It feels so good, so happy. Hyejoo kind of wishes that this day—that these ten days of summer—would last forever.

Golden hour comes as they make their way back home, the four of them chatting and laughing under the warmth of the last rays of sunshine. A leaf falls off a tree to the ground under their feet, a reminder in brown and red that summer is almost over and that moments like this won’t last long with the arrival of autumn around the corner.

Another leaf falls, moved by the lukewarm summer breeze, and it turns and twists in the air before landing on top of Chaewon’s head like a crown of mixed green and golden. It makes the four of them stop on their tracks, caught by surprise.

Chaewon, as Hyejoo notices, laughs with all her body—her eyes narrowing when she smiles, her small shoulders moving up and down, her laughter coming out soft and airy. Chaewon, as Hyejoo notices, is beautiful under the golden lighting of the late summer sun. And it definitely isn’t the first time Hyejoo has noticed this.

This time, however—it’s different. Hyejoo has never been so aware of the way her ears go hot when Chaewon looks at her. The way Chaewon _looks_ at her. Has it always been like this? Has it always felt this way? Has Chaewon ever looked at her like this, all sunshine eyes and heart-shaped lips?

Hyejoo watches the leaf fall off Chaewon’s head, shaken by soft laughter. Her eyes follow it as is twirls all the way to the pavement, where it lands softly, almost in slow motion. Then, heart suddenly hammering against her ribs, Hyejoo looks up at Chaewon and her smile and her eyes and her hair and her lips. Her breath hitches for a second.

The slow death of summer comes in the form of fallen leaves, bringing realisation with it. Hyejoo stares at her friends as they laugh—but in reality, she is only looking at Chaewon, wondering how long has she been looking only at her—and feels the first chill of autumn.

Chaewon is a girl and Hyejoo thinks that she might have a little bit of a crush on her.

And that’s terrifying.

* * *

Hyejoo is turning a year older today, and she’s in love with Chaewon.

Those two thoughts are related in any way, but Hyejoo happens to come to terms with both of them at the same time. It’s early in the morning, just minutes before her alarm clock goes off, and the first thing that crosses her mind is the memory of Chaewon, arms wrapped around her knees, Hyejoo’s leather jacket thrown over her shoulders and that stupid plastic crown on her head. And—something inside Hyejoo just _clicks_.

The feeling of realisation is strange, hard to describe. It’s like losing your balance when you dance, the split second where you think you’re going to trip and fall down, but you don’t. It’s the same rush, from your toes to the tip of your nose. Hyejoo thinks that maybe, in a way, she has already taken the fall and is just now realising.

Three years ago she was in love with the girl she had known since the day she was born, the girl who came to her every summer. Today she’s in love with the girl who is a terrible cook and always sleeps in, the girl who is terribly scared of the future but is still brave enough to tell Hyejoo about it.

Once, Hyejoo learned how to be friends with Chaewon. And when they met each other after three years, she learned again. But Hyejoo thinks that although she learned to fall in love with Chaewon—the one she grew up with and the one she got to know now—she never quite learned how to fall out of it.

Has she been in love with her all this time? Maybe. Maybe not. Those three years spent without seeing each other really felt like a break—like her feelings were almost gone. Not gone as in disappearing, but gone as in hibernating somewhere, deep down inside Hyejoo.

And the scariest part is that, even though this girl and the one from years ago are the same, Hyejoo knows that she loves Chaewon now. She loves her with all her new flaws and new qualities, and the Chaewon she knew three years ago has nothing to do with it.

So maybe she’s been in love with Chaewon her entire life or maybe she’s only been in love with Chaewon for the past ten minutes. Not like that matters, anyway—what matters is that she’s in love in this exact moment, she _knows_ she is.

What a way to start her day, huh.

It’s Hyejoo’s birthday today, and things are already changing. Going too fast. Spinning around her, making her dizzy. And she hasn’t even gotten out of bed yet.

When she finally gets out of her bedroom, Chaewon is sitting on the kitchen table. She looks up from her phone when she notices Hyejoo walk in. Her expression shifts into the brightest smile, and Hyejoo immediately smiles back, not being able to hold back her happiness.

“Hyejoo!” Chaewon says, her voice a little hoarse from being sleepy, and Hyejoo wishes she could hear her say her name like that forever. “Happy birthday!”

Chaewon holds her arms out and hugs Hyejoo, her grip tight around the taller girl’s waist. Their heights are just right—perfect for Chaewon to rest her head against Hyejoo’s chest. The younger girl’s face gets warmer, worried about the way her heart starts to thunder in her chest, so loud that Chaewon might even be able to hear it.

In the morning light, Chaewon looks beautiful, sleepy-eyed, and Hyejoo wants to hold her in her arms for the rest of the day. That’d be the best present: to have Chaewon for one day. To kiss her hair and her cheeks and the tip of her nose because she feels like it. To do something crazy and tell her that she loves her—that she has loved her all her life.

She decides to settle for a hug, a little longer and a little tighter than usual. Chaewon doesn’t seem to want to let go of her either, and it might be just the high of her realisation speaking, but today—Hyejoo just wants to believe.

Hope.

That’s Hyejoo’s birthday present for herself today.

* * *

Hyejoo’s birthday is long, and tiring, and very happy. After class, Haseul comes pick her up in her car, wishes her a happy birthday and tells her to act surprised when they get back home. Hyejoo just laughs and obliges. Two surprise parties in one week seem like a bit too much, but then again—Hyejoo’s friends have always been a little too much. And she wouldn’t want it any other way.

Back at their place, Jinsol welcomes with a box of cupcakes from an expensive bakery in Myeongdong that Hyejoo likes, a single candle stuck out from the top. All of her friends (well, not all—this time, Yerim and Yeojin aren’t here, and Sooyoung and Vivi work until late in the afternoon) sing an out of tune rendition of happy birthday, and Hyejoo laughs until she cries when she hears them.

Presents are next, because Hyejoo just wants to get it over with. Receiving gifts is awkward, and all she can do is blush and fumble and try to look for a new variation of _thank you_.

The girls get her two new games for her Nintendo Switch, and Hyejoo almost wants to give them back because she knows how expensive they are, though the way Haseul’s eyes sparkle when Hyejoo tells her that she _loves_ the present convince her not to do so. They also give her a couple of hoodies in different shades of grey and black (which Hyejoo definitely appreciates) and a new headset for gaming.

Chaewon is last, her present wrapped with lavender paper. It’s a long box with a note on top that reads _“thank you for all the memories”_. When she opens it, she sees a frame with some pictures—Hyejoo and Chaewon as kids, playing in the park; them asleep, cuddling together in Hyejoo’s bed; the picture of that day in the waterpark; and two more recent pictures, one of all the girls and a candid shot of the two of them, playing Smash.

And there’s a feeling of closure in the air now. Hyejoo is turning eighteen and she’s not a kid anymore, but she hadn’t felt like that until now. She stares at those pictures and realises—how much she has grown, she has changed, how much she has left behind and how much is ahead of her.

“Thank you,” Hyejoo says, on the verge to tears. All of her friends let out a loud, obnoxious _awwwww!_ and wrap her in the tightest of group hugs.

This might just be her best birthday ever.

* * *

It’s almost midnight when Hyejoo goes back to her apartment, after having gone out for dinner with Chaeryeong. Her friend had tried to talk her into going out for drinks with her and her friends and Hyejoo had kindly refused, not in the mood to be any more social today. Birthdays are bittersweet—especially your 18th—and Hyejoo is exhausted after having spent the day thanking people for their birthday wishes.

Rain falls heavily on the street and Hyejoo has to sprint her way back home after emerging from the underground. What usually is a five-minute walk turns into a two-minute race. Still, she is completely soaked when she finally walks into their apartment building.

Hyejoo drags herself to the elevator, head throbbing with exhaustion. This day feels like it’s been going on forever. All she wants is to throw herself into bed and sleep until two days straight. A cup of tea and hug would also be nice.

When she opens the door (slowly, trying not to make too much noise in case Chaewon has fallen asleep while watching TV), she notices the lights are on and there’s a murmuring coming from the living room. The noise makes Hyejoo’s heart start hammering against her chest. She thinks about Chaewon staying up, waiting for her. Her arms seem like a such good, soft place to land right now.

In the living room, Jiwoo and Sooyoung are squeezed in their tiny couch while Chaewon sits on some pillows on the floor. The TV is on, but none of them is watching it—Jiwoo is asleep, softly snoring against her girlfriend’s shoulder, while Sooyoung and Chaewon watch something on Sooyoung’s phone. They are laughing so hard that they almost cry, and Jiwoo doesn’t even flinch but Chaewon still tries to hold back her giggles, and she looks at Sooyoung and—

And it’s then when Hyejoo realises.

It’s subtle, but it catches her attention immediately. She’s already soaked by the rain and this only feels like someone just threw a bucket of cold water on her. Water is mostly shapeless and can be heavy, and sometimes so is love. Love is bright and easy when you’re a kid and sharp like a knife when you grow up and we always somehow manage to get hurt by it. And like water, it fits itself inside us, taking up every part of ourselves until we drown in it.

Hyejoo thinks she might be drowning now.

The way Chaewon looks at Sooyoung, with that sparkle in her eyes, a smile that’s reserved only for special things—she could recognize it anywhere. A smile that has never been for Hyejoo, whose whole body feels like it’s sinking into the ocean, trying to reach for the surface. To reach for Chaewon.

(Hyejoo wonders—how can anyone be this fucking stupid? How can anyone fall for the same person and let them break their heart two different times?)

The hands of the clock on the wall move ever so slightly and the day shifts into a new one as Hyejoo sinks and sinks and sinks until she drowns.

It’s not Hyejoo’s birthday anymore, and Chaewon is in love with someone else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> congratulations !!! you have made it to the end of chapter 1 !! i know you might be confused about certain parts of the story, but i think everything will be explained on chapter 2. this is just an 'introductory' chapter, per se
> 
> as usual, thank you so much for your time and please don't forget to leave kudos and a comment if you can !!! i would love to know what your favourite part of the chapter was, but any kind of comment will make me happy (the longer the better!)
> 
> that's all i have to say !! thanks for reading !!!!! don't forget to [follow me on twitter](https://twitter.com/sailorplvtos)
> 
> part 2 coming as soon as possible :)


	2. quiero que quieras quedarte (a story in three acts)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello everyone, it's me again
> 
> i would like to apologize for taking so long to post this chapter. it's been a pretty rough few months for me.
> 
> please check the notes of chapter one to find content warnings!!! most of them actually apply to this chapter
> 
> usual disclaimer: this is a work of fiction, does not intend to represent these idols' real lives
> 
> also, in case there was any doubt, the yuri mentioned is jo yuri from izone
> 
> enjoy :)

**act I: yesterday**

* * *

Hyejoo has a secret.

She has a secret that’s been buried inside her for years. Hidden since the day she was born, although she only became aware of it not long ago. And ever since she realized, the secret has been following her, a shadow over her own shadow, lurking behind her back. It feeds off her positive emotions, eats them all and leaves her alone with only the bad ones, the ones that make her constantly feel bad and worthless and wrong.

She though that telling Sooyoung would help. That it’d make things easier for her—and it does, for a while. Things are easier for a few months, when Sooyoung is there for her to listen and to hug her and to understand her. But then—everything goes back to where it began. Because Sooyoung leaves for college, and she gives Hyejoo her number, promises her to call, but it’s not the same. She’s not _there_ anymore.

Hyejoo is alone again.

Hyejoo has a secret, and she’s alone.

Nobody around her is like her anymore. Nobody around can possibly understand what she’s going through. Nobody around her knows that Hyejoo’s a lesbian. And she isn’t sure of how long she can keep carrying this secret, a secret that feels dirty and heavy, one that wants to get out but will probably be better if it’s hidden forever than if it somehow gets free.

There’s a huge feeling of guilt that comes with this secret—and Hyejoo isn’t sure if it’s guilt for what she is or guilt for hiding. There’s guilt, because she knows she’s not letting people in. She lets others know bits and pieces of her, never the real parts. Never those parts that will make her Different and an Outsider.

And she doesn’t know how long she can keep doing this.

So, the last time Hyejoo sees her, she tells Chaewon.

They are sitting in Hyejoo’s room, just eating snacks and idling the afternoon away. Since Chaewon and her family were leaving next morning, she and Hyejoo wanted to make the most out of their time, and they had spent the day together, playing around and just enjoying each other’s presence. Hyejoo’s been having a bit of a hard time ever since she realized she had feelings for Chaewon, but she doesn’t want that to ruin their friendship.

It will be fine as long Hyejoo pretends that there’s nothing wrong.

Hyejoo is good at pretending.

Pretending that there’s nothing wrong with her. Pretending that she hasn’t been hiding the real her all her life. Pretending that she doesn’t feel like she’s all alone in the world. Pretending that she doesn’t desperately want a hand to help her. Pretending that what she feels for Chaewon can go away.

Hyejoo trusts Chaewon.

She trusted Chaewon when they were eleven and she put make-up on Hyejoo although she had never done it before. She trusted Chaewon when they were ten and went on a trip to the beach where she held Hyejoo’s hand and jumped into the ocean together. She trusted Chaewon when they were nine and promised that they’d be friends forever.

In a way, part of Hyejoo trusts Chaewon more than she trusts herself. Part of Hyejoo thinks that her secret will be better off with Chaewon—that Chaewon, who has always been older and smarter and the most beautiful girl Hyejoo knows, will know what to do with that secret. Maybe she’ll find a way to turn it into something that isn’t a burden to Hyejoo. Maybe she’ll keep it under lock and key so Hyejoo doesn’t have to do it on her own anymore.

Be it as it may, Hyejoo knows she should trust Chaewon with this secret. Still, the idea of actually _telling_ Chaewon is terrifying.

But today, as they lie together on the floor of her room, there’s a hurricane inside Hyejoo.

The words twist and turn in her mind, her throat, her tongue. Ready to break free. Hyejoo stares at the ceiling as mayhem continues to extend inside her. She can’t blurt it out, but—the secret is begging to be freed.

However, Chaewon is the first to speak up.

“I heard you sister got a boyfriend,” she starts, head turning to Hyejoo.

“Uh,” Hyejoo says, her voice like a grunt. She can’t look at Chaewon in the eye. “Yeah. She—she did.”

“I always thought she and my brother would end up together,” Chaewon says in a sigh. She sounds disappointed. “They’d have made a cute couple, don’t you think?”

Hyejoo frowns, confused. Truth is—no. She doesn’t think her sister and Chaewon’s brother would make a cute couple. She has never imagined them as a couple, mainly because in all the years they’ve known each other, their relationship hasn’t gone past cordial conversations.

She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess.”

“It’d have been cool,” Chaewon continues. “If they ever married, we’d have been kind of family.”

“Oh. Um—right,” Hyejoo says, a tad stupidly. Her face is red now. “Never thought about it before, to be honest.”

That’s a half-truth. The half that is a lie is that Hyejoo never imagined their siblings getting together, making them somehow related. The half that is a truth is that Hyejoo, sometimes in dreams, sometimes in a moment of embarrassing hopefulness, has thought about _her and Chaewon_ getting together, making them family.

Hyejoo grimaces.

It feels so wrong. Disgusting. A violation of Chaewon’s intimacy.

Chaewon doesn’t notice Hyejoo’s expression. She sits on the floor, eager and energetic. Suddenly she seems excited, and all Hyejoo can do is look at her from the floor and silently apologize for having creepy thoughts about them together.

“Imagine if _you_ married my brother!” Chaewon says, lips curling into a smile, almost a laugh. An eureka moment for Chaewon, like this is the best idea she’s ever had. “We’d be basically sisters!”

Hyejoo doesn’t reply. Doesn’t try to. If she opened her mouth, no sound would come out.

_This is so unfair_ , she thinks. Her whole body is frozen, nailed to the floor.

This is so unfair.

It’s so unfair that, even when Chaewon is saying this kind of things, slowly chipping little pieces of her heart, all Hyejoo can think is that she looks so pretty today. She looks so happy, smile crooked in a grin, eyes sparkling, enthusiastic. It’s so unfair that Hyejoo is having these thoughts about her, bad and creepy and disgusting.

It’s so unfair that Hyejoo is fourteen and is having feelings she doesn’t even understand. Feelings that she knows are bad, because she’s heard so. She’s been told they’re bad, so they must be. She knows she shouldn’t be having these feelings. Shouldn’t be silently begging Chaewon to look at her, silently saying _it’s not your brother I want. It’s you. It’s always been you._

And Chaewon—she isn’t smiling anymore. She stares down at Hyejoo, lips pressed together in a thin line.

“Hyejoo,” Chaewon calls, her voice now lower. Worried. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah, I just—it’s nothing,” Hyejoo says, forcing a smile. She’s sure the expression on her face is far from one, though. Chaewon must have probably noticed. “Sorry, I just—just zoned out for a moment.”

Hyejoo lets out an awkward chuckle. It hangs in the air, filling the space between them until it disappears.

When it’s gone, it’s just them—Hyejoo and Chaewon, in complete silence.

Hyejoo, face twisted halfway between a fake smile and an expression of disgust. Chaewon, brows knitted together, eyes scanning Hyejoo’s face, looking for the problem, the cause of the sudden change of mood in the room.

“Did I—” Chaewon cuts herself off. She flinches before talking again. “Did I say something wrong, Hyejoo?”

“No!” Hyejoo almost yells, getting up a little too fast. She wants to be face to face with Chaewon, but it’s hard. Her cheeks are burning. She can’t barely look at Chaewon. “No. You didn’t say—it was nothing.”

Except that it _was_ something. Chaewon’s words make her insides twist. She feels like throwing up. She feels like crying. There’s too much going on in her mind right now, she can’t barely string a sentence together.

“It was… It was nothing,” she says again, as if it repeating it would make it true.

Chaewon reaches for Hyejoo’s hand, holding it carefully between her fingers. Hyejoo was already about to cry, but she can barely hold it back now. Her vision gets blurrier by the second, and Chaewon gives her hand a firm squeeze.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” Chaewon says, and for a second Hyejoo panics. Because—does Chaewon know? Is she trying to get a confession out of her? “If something that I said bothered you, just tell me. I won’t get mad. I’m worried about you, okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

There’s a short silence.

“Can I?” Hyejoo asks out of the blue, the words leaving her mouth before she can even stop herself.

“What?”

“Can I really tell you anything?”

Chaewon’s expression softens, her thumb caressing the back of Hyejoo’s hand. “Of course you can, Hyejoo. Anything.”

It feels like someone has just switched her brain to automatic mode. Her mind is going to a thousand miles per hour, a mix of all the things she’s ever wanted to tell Chaewon and a supercut of all the moments they’ve shared throughout the years. A reminder that, by telling Chaewon, Hyejoo might be risking all of that. May be risking her relationship with Chaewon, everything they’ve built together.

Her throat burns.

In her mind, Hyejoo makes two lists. One for the pros, one for the cons. It goes like this: pros, she finally gets this off her chest. Cons, Chaewon’s reaction might not be good. Pros, she won’t have to hide in front of her. Cons, she doesn’t know if Chaewon will feel comfortable around her anymore.

Pros, Chaewon gets to know the real Hyejoo. Cons, Chaewon might not like that Hyejoo.

Pros, Chaewon knows. Cons, Chaewon _knows_.

But Chaewon said she can tell her anything.

“When you said that. About your, um, about you brother? It bothered me because—not because your brother! He’s… he’s cool. I like him, but. There’s something…”

Hyejoo makes a pause.

Looks at Chaewon in the eye.

And then, a step into the darkness. In a way, a leap of faith.

If Chaewon wants the truth, Hyejoo will give it to her.

“I—um, I don’t… I don’t think boys are… I don’t think I’m—you know, um, into boys. Like. At all. I like…”

Hyejoo cuts herself off. Can’t continue speaking, the words cut abruptly in a loud sob.

She said it.

It’s out. Finally out.

Hyejoo pulls Chaewon into a hug, squeezing her eyes shut. It’s her way of saying thank you— _thank you for helping me let this out_ —but also a way of stopping Chaewon from running away. The equivalent of Hyejoo getting on her knees to beg Chaewon not to leave her after this.

“I’m sorry,” Hyejoo says, because she really is.

After a split second, she feels Chaewon’s arms wrap around her. Not so different from all the hugs they’ve shared before. Soft, but tighter than usual. Like Chaewon understands Hyejoo’s fear that one of them might just get up and run away at any moment.

“It’s okay, Hyejoo,” Chaewon says, running a hand through the younger girl’s hair, comforting. For a split second Hyejoo believes her—it’s _okay_. It might be okay. It could be okay. “Hyejoo. That’s—that’s okay.”

Still, not even Chaewon can make Hyejoo believe that there’s nothing wrong with her. Not when Hyejoo has spent so long telling herself so. Not when Hyejoo has already come to terms that she’s not normal, that she’s wrong, broken.

But Chaewon’s voice… It could make her forget.

“No. No, it’s—it’s not. I’m sorry,” Hyejoo says, burying her face on the crook of Chaewon’s neck. After this, she will never be able to look at her in the eye again. Chaewon knows her and she knows Chaewon. Truth is all out. There’s only one thing left to hide. The second Chaewon looks at her, she will _know_. “I’m sorry. I’m _so_ sorry. I’m—”

“Hyejoo, please,” Chaewon whispers. She holds Hyejoo closer, rubbing small circles on her back. Hyejoo thinks that, the moment Chaewon lets her go, she’ll break down in a million pieces and never recover. “It’s okay, I swear. I’m—I’m glad you shared this with me. I love you, okay? You don’t have to worry. Everything is okay.”

Hyejoo stops breathing for a moment.

Perhaps Chaewon doesn’t know everything. Doesn’t know the way her words trigger something inside Hyejoo, who starts crying against her shoulder. Perhaps Chaewon doesn’t understand that she’s just told Hyejoo what she’s been dreaming all this time. And, at the same time, she’s just destroying all the hope Hyejoo has ever had.

“I l-love you too,” Hyejoo says, meaning every single word. She loves Chaewon. She’s loved Chaewon all her life. And Chaewon loves her as well—but not in the way Hyejoo wants her to. Not in the way Hyejoo needs her to. It doesn’t matter, anyway. This is her love confession to Chaewon—be it one-sided or not. She wants Chaewon to know. “Please—don’t h-hate me. I—I love you. You’re my best friend.”

Chaewon breaks the hug, holds Hyejoo by her shoulders. Hyejoo doesn’t dare to look at her—she will never dare after this—but she feels Chaewon’s gaze burning her skin.

She knows the expression on Chaewon’s face without having to look at her. She knows her so well. Knows all of her secrets, her fears, what she can and can’t eat, knows what music she likes, that she can’t sleep well if Bbomi isn’t on her bed. She knows that Chaewon knew everything about her, except one thing.

And now—

She’s so scared, now that Chaewon knows her as well. All of her.

“Hey, look at me,” Chaewon says, cupping Hyejoo’s cheeks with her hands. Hyejoo, skin on fire were Chaewon is touching her, forces herself to oblige. Through her tears, she looks at Chaewon right in the eye. “It’s okay. You’re so brave for telling me.”

That’s what Chaewon says.

What Hyejoo sees is: Chaewon, a little paler than usual, her lips frozen halfway through a smile. When she speaks, her eyes shake a bit, like she’s scanning Hyejoo’s face, looking for something. She looks nervous, and her words might sound earnest, but there’s something about her voice when she speaks.

It’s okay. That’s what Chaewon says.

For once in her life, Hyejoo isn’t sure Chaewon means it.

* * *

Chaewon and her family leave the following day, like every other summer.

And like every other summer, Hyejoo is there to see them leave, ready to begin her countdown until next year comes and she gets the chance to share it with Chaewon. But this time, there’s a different feeling to this day.

As she watches Chaewon and her family get their bags in the car, checking to make sure they haven’t forgotten anything, Hyejoo feels as if they were taking a part of her with them. A little piece of her that will leave once they do.

When Chaewon comes to give her a hug, Hyejoo almost wants to tell her _“You’re taking my secret with you. Please keep it safe.”_ But she knows Chaewon would never do that to her, or anyone for that matter. She’s too good for that.

"Goodbye," Chaewon says, her breath warm against Hyejoo's ear. "I'm going to miss you."

"Me too," Hyejoo says, holding Chaewon closer. She knows this hug is too long, but—for once, she doesn’t care. She doesn't want to let go. She isn’t ready to let go. Not yet.

“I’ll see you next summer.” Chaewon beams as she breaks the hug, the same smile on her lips as the day Hyejoo realized she didn’t just like her as a friend anymore. It makes Hyejoo’s insides twist in the worst ways possible.

Chaewon gets into the car and waves through the window until the vehicle disappears down the street, where Hyejoo can’t see it anymore.

It reminds Hyejoo of their first summer together, when she saw Chaewon leave and started crying without knowing why. Perhaps because she though she wouldn’t see Chaewon again. She never cried the following summers, because she knew there were less than 365 days ahead of her until she got to meet her again. She knew it was a see you later.

What Hyejoo feels now is nothing like that.

This isn’t a “see you later”.

Deep down, Hyejoo knows it.

This is goodbye.

* * *

Chaewon doesn’t come back.

If she has so be honest, Hyejoo isn’t surprised: she knew coming out to her would change their relationship forever. However, she had hoped that things wouldn’t come to this, that Chaewon wouldn’t leave and never come back.

And yet, when her mother tells her that the Parks won’t be coming to spend the last few days of summer with them, Hyejoo is only mildly surprised. It hurts, of course, but in a way that she had already prepared herself to be hurt.

Her parents tell her the Parks have moved to a new city, too far from them to be able to visit again. Apparently, Chaewon’s father was presented an amazing job offer that he couldn’t reject, and the whole family followed him. After hearing it for the first time, Hyejoo can’t help but wonder whether the entire story is true or not, although she doubts they would make up such an elaborate lie just to avoid her.

They give her an e-mail address she can write to, and they promise they’ll try to meet again soon. Deep down, Hyejoo knows that even if her parents managed to find a way to be with the Parks again, Chaewon would still avoid her.

It’s kind of sad, kind of messed up, thinking that Hyejoo had this amazing thing—Chaewon’s friendship—that was only hers. This bond, which was the most special thing the world had ever seen, she knew. And all that’s left from that now is a feeling of emptiness inside Hyejoo that might or might not ever go away.

In a way, it feels like Chaewon left and took a part of Hyejoo with her. Hyejoo will turn a year older, and then another, and she will never see Chaewon again. She knows it. She knew almost from the moment she and Chaewon said goodbye to each other. After everything starts to sink in, Hyejoo decides she needs to learn how to live with that empty spot inside her—that little piece of her that belongs to Chaewon and that disappeared with her.

At some point, Hyejoo becomes so used to that ache, she almost doesn’t feel it anymore. Almost forgets that it was even there in the first place.

She decides that perhaps it’s for the best.

* * *

(Hyejoo writes once, in a moment of desperation. A day where she hates the world—and herself in particular—more than usual.

She writes as a call for help, as a hand trying to reach out for the one person she hopes could help her. Not her older sister, not her parents, not Sooyoung—but Chaewon.

Chaewon, whom she hasn’t seen in over a year. Chaewon, who has probably already forgotten her. Chaewon, whom Hyejoo still considers her best friend, even if they will probably never talk to each other again.

* * *

**FROM:** Son Hyejoo <hyejoo01@mail.kr>

**TO:** Park Chaewon <parkchaewon@mail.kr>

**SUBJECT:** How's everything going?

Dear Chaewon,

Your parents told me to email you since you couldn’t come this year. Honestly, I was really sad when you didn’t show up.

I hope you’re having fun with your grandma and your brother. I heard Europe is beautiful in the summer. Things here are pretty much the same as always—Yerim and Yeojin are great, as always, but holidays are a little more boring without you.

Hope to hear from you soon!!!

Love,

Hyejoo

P.S.: I miss you a lot

* * *

She never gets an answer.)

* * *

**act II: today**

* * *

Hyejoo is out of her element.

Although she had instantly regretted her decision the very moment she had accepted Sooyoung’s invitation to the party, truth was that her older friend had a way with words and managed to talk her into not bailing at the last minute. Sooyoung (and Jiwoo, of course) spent most of the week trying to convince her of how much fun parties were—especially when you were a college student—so Hyejoo, never one to back out when faced with a new challenge, ended up thinking that trying to be social for once in her life might not be that bad. The way Chaewon’s face had lit up when Hyejoo told her she was going to a party may had also influenced her ultimate decision—but that was something neither Sooyoung nor Jiwoo needed to know.

There was only one problem that Hyejoo had completely overlooked when she decided to accept Sooyoung’s invitation: she would never survive a party.

The closest thing to a _real_ party that Hyejoo has ever experienced was Yerim’s 12th birthday celebration, where she invited too many people and almost made her mom have a stroke when she saw a bunch of tweens standing in front of her front door.

So, yeah. Hyejoo has no experience. She still struggles to manage interacting with all of the girls when the twelve of them are able to hang out together—and she’s as close to them as one can be.

Despite all of this, her first fifteen minutes there go by pretty smoothly.

The four of them—Hyejoo, Sooyoung, Jiwoo and Jungeun—arrived when the party had already started. (Sooyoung claimed that being on time wasn’t cool, and that they needed to get there later in order to “make an entrance). To say Hyejoo is impressed when she finally walks in would be an understatement—the place is located in one of the richest districts of the city, almost straight out of a drama. There even is a garden in the back with a pool, which looks bigger than Hyejoo’s bedroom in her little shared apartment.

Although there probably isn’t that many people around, Hyejoo feels as if half of Seoul is there, some of them inside the house (Hyejoo doesn’t even know who the host of the party actually is, and at this point she is too scared to ask and discover what their relationship with Sooyoung is), some of them drinking or simply enjoying themselves in the backyard. Hyejoo instantly feels very self-conscious about everything—her choice of clothing, her lack of experience, the way she is the only one of her friends who doesn’t know anyone at the party. However, Sooyoung wraps a reassuring arm around her shoulders and eases Hyejoo’s nerves, knowing that she needs a little help if she wants to _actually_ have fun.

They bump into Jinsol inside. The blonde instantly perks up when she notices them, her cheeks already pink because of the alcohol and the heat, with that brightness of hers clear in the way she almost instinctively opens her arms to wrap them in a hug. Hyejoo feels a strange comfort in being wrapped in Jinsol’s tipsy embrace (which isn’t very different to being hugged by a sober Jinsol, to be honest).

“Here,” Sooyoung says, offering Hyejoo a glass with an orange-ish liquid. Hyejoo gags at the smell of it, and Sooyoung lets out a light-hearted chuckle before she pats her back sympathetically. “I know. It’s not that bad once you get used to it, I swear.”

“Yeah, hard pass,” Hyejoo says, but doesn’t let go of the glass. It feels like a kind of shield, protecting her her from the rest of the party—and God knows she needs any protection she can get right now. It’s probably been years since she last felt so out of her comfort zone.

Sooyoung, on the other hand, seems to be in her element. Hyejoo watches her carefully, taking note of her posture, the way her lips curl into a friendly smirk when people wave at her. Like she did when Sooyoung helped teach her dance classes, Hyejoo tries to imitate her; things might be easier if she thinks of this as a choreography. Steps are hard to learn, but once you master them, you blend right in with the rest of the group.

Apparently, both Sooyoung and Jiwoo are quite popular. It’s clear that they are trying _really_ hard to make Hyejoo feel comfortable, bless their souls. But having a normal conversation is kind of hard when there are strangers interrupting them every five seconds, just to say hello to Sooyoung and Jiwoo, maybe even give them a hug. Hyejoo smiles and bows politely when some girls wave at her, too, although she’s pretty sure she has never seen them before.

“ _It could be worse_ ”, Hyejoo thinks.

And then, it gets worse.

Hold on. Okay. Perhaps that’s being a little too dramatic, but facts are facts: things _do_ get worse for Hyejoo.

She honestly cannot blame them (and she would probably do the same were it not for her inexistent love life), but Hyejoo almost wants to stop Sooyoung and Jiwoo when she sees them walk hand in hand to a more private place. She’s seen them about to make out too many times. She knows exactly what the look on their faces means.

(And she’s definitely _not_ jealous, although Jinsol’s blonde hair makes her think of a certain somebody and she cannot help but blush a bit.)

A new song starts to play, and Hyejoo feels every beat drum against her head and her chest. Without even noticing, she has already drowned two and a half glasses of whatever alcoholic beverage Sooyoung chose to give her, and she can feel it start to make an effect on her, slow but menacing.

Still, she chugs the rest of her drink and doesn’t move her glass away when Jinsol offers her a taste of her drink of choice.

Hyejoo isn’t drunk. Not yet. If anything, her mouth is oddly dry, despite her constantly drinking. And she kind of enjoys how her body feels so light, as if she could float away like a feather at any moment.

Next to her, Jinsol is passionately rambling about some very serious topic—Hyejoo hears her say something about sea turtles and plastic, but her brain doesn’t properly process a single sentence—and having a sip of her drink every three words. The rational part of Hyejoo’s brain, not yet turned off by the alcohol, tells her that she should probably stop Jinsol from drinking. The other part of Hyejoo’s brain, which feels like it has just been mashed with a hammer, thinks that the way drunk-Jinsol talks is very funny, and she should just let her be.

By the time the next song comes on, Hyejoo can almost swear the world around her is moving in slow motion.

She was wrong before. _This_ is where it gets worse.

Jinsol interrupts her passionate speech about turtles when she spots a couple of her friends from college somewhere near the front door. Without even saying a word, and without giving Hyejoo a chance to stop her, she races her way towards them, staggering with every step.

The younger girl watches as the blonde makes her way through the crowded living room, screaming her friends’ names over the loud bass of the song that plays in the background. When they finally spot her between the rest of partygoers, all of her friends smile, throwing their arms in the air, welcoming her into their little group.

That means, of course, that Hyejoo is now alone.

Panic takes over her for a moment. What are you supposed to do alone at a party where all of your friends are missing in action?

Her legs move almost on their own, forcing her to start walking around the place, her drink clutched between her fingers like a weapon. Although the haze of the alcohol still blurs her senses, her mind is clear enough: she decides to pretend to be looking for someone. It allows her to avoid any unwanted eye contact, though she can almost feel a couple of curious eyes on the back of her neck. When she thinks someone might be trying to approach her, she speeds up and fakes a smile, as if she has just seen her best friend around the corner.

The anxiety building in her stomach somehow helps her get used to the alcohol—whenever she takes a sip, she blends a little more with the rest of the party. Just a normal girl, getting drunk like everyone else. Just Hyejoo, pretending that the bitter aftertaste of alcohol doesn’t make her want to vomit.

After a few minutes of walking around the place without really knowing where to go, Hyejoo starts to feel very self-conscious. What if someone has noticed her wandering around the room like a lost child? What if they think she looks ridiculous? Or even worse—what if they try to come and talk to her?

God. She _really_ needs to splash some cold water on her face, see if that can help her calm down a bit. Her heart is about to burst out of her chest.

The bathroom downstairs is too crowded, but after a quick evaluation of the place, Hyejoo notices there aren’t as many people on the first floor. Perhaps she can find some peace upstairs.

Being on top of the staircase feels like a huge relief. Hyejoo can barely remember making her way there. She feels like a zombie, her body moving on its own. With her head swimming, she rests her back against the wall, closes her eyes for a second. In the darkness behind her eyelids, she sees colours and shapes that change with every beat of the music.

Hyejoo is surprised to realize that she suddenly feels very tired, as if she had just run a marathon. Not only do her eyelids feel heavy—her arms, her legs, every part of her body now weighs ten times more.

Is alcohol supposed to make you feel like this? High, energetic, like you’re above everything—and then… sleepy?

She could really fall asleep there, like a statue nailed to the wall behind her.

“Hyejoo!” A voice calls, taking her out of her weird haze. Hyejoo can’t really tell where it comes from—the music is too loud (was it so loud before?) and she’s kind of dizzy. “Hyejoo! Hey!”

Jungeun pops out of nowhere, her arm wrapped around Jinsol’s waist firmly. It’s strange to see, because Jungeun and Jinsol don’t talk that much—Hyejoo cannot seem to remember a single time where they hung out with each other alone. But they look good together; Jungeun and her serious demeanor, Jinsol and her ditzy smile.

They would look even better together if Jungeun didn’t seem so worried.

“Hyejoo,” Jungeun says again, once she’s finally face to face with the younger girl. “I need your help.”

Only then, Hyejoo notices—the way Jinsol clings to Jungeun isn’t normal. And it has nothing to do with the fact that they’re not as close as each other as they are with the rest of the gang. Up close, Hyejoo can see it: Jinsol is so drunk that she can barely walk on her own.

If she wasn’t already feeling nervous, Hyejoo would probably think this is a very good moment for her anxiety to strike in.

“I just called Chaewon,” Jungeun says. Hearing her roommate’s name makes Hyejoo’s heart race. She had spent most of the night trying to avoid thinking of her, although the small blonde always found a way to sneak into her mind. Could Jungeun read her thoughts? Why did she call Chaewon?

“Wh—what? Why?” Hyejoo mutters. Her tongue feels heavy and the words struggle to come out. It’s kind of humiliating, how much of a mess she is right now.

“Jinsol _needs_ to go home,” Jungeun explains, her worried eyes jumping from Hyejoo to the blonde. Jinsol smiles at the mention of her name, but she says nothing. “I promised to wait for Jiwoo to leave, but I can’t leave Jinsol alone. I called Chaewon and she told me she could come to get her. I’m sorry to ask you this—I’ll make it up to you, I promise—but I need you to watch over Jinsol.”

It takes Hyejoo by surprise, realizing just how much Jungeun _cares_. She cares about Jinsol’s wellbeing, cares about keeping her promise to Jiwoo, cares about Hyejoo having fun.

She kind of wants to cry and hug Jungeun and tell her that she loves her. For god’s sake, why does alcohol make her feel like an oversensitive child?

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of her,” she says instead, her heart warming a bit when Jungeun’s frown turns into the slightest of smiles. “I wasn’t having much fun, anyway.” Which definitely isn’t a lie, but she adds it for good measure—to let Jungeun know she’s not bothering her.

Jungeun helps Jinsol to find a comfortable position to stand, aided by Hyejoo, who doesn’t know what to do. She lingers for a moment before finally leaving, looking back every now and then until Hyejoo can’t see her

“Alright, baby Hyejoo, time to have fun. You look bored,” Jinsol says, slurring. She rests her back against the wall like Hyejoo, but the difference between them can be seen from miles away: while Hyejoo is tense and can’t stop looking around nervously, Jinsol is completely calm, as if she has been doing this since she was born. “Truth or dare?”

“Uh, I—what?” Hyejoo panics a bit when she notices Jinsol is serious. “It’s just the two of us…” she manages to say, her cheeks bright red. All the drinks she’s had still have an effect on her, because it feels like the room is suddenly too hot. Her palms are sweaty around her (now empty) glass, and she’s shaking a bit, but she knows the alcohol is not to blame for that.

“Who cares?” Jinsol says as she rests her head against Hyejoo’s shoulder. Her vowels are long and slightly exaggerated when she speaks, so it sounds more like _whoooooo caaaaaaares_. Hyejoo would probably find it hilarious if she didn’t feel the pressure of having to look after a very drunk Jinsol almost crushing her. “Choose one.”

“Truth,” Hyejoo says absentmindedly. “C’mon, let’s get going. We can wait outside.”

Much to her surprise, Jinsol doesn’t put up much of a fight. She simply wraps an arm around Hyejoo’s waist for balance, and allows the younger girl to help her walk.

“I don’t like this place,” Jinsol groans as the make their way downstairs. The music and the way she slurs her words make it hard for Hyejoo to understand her at first. “It looks like the house from _Parasite_.”

Hyejoo chuckles, her lips curling into a smile. At least Jinsol still manages to make her laugh, even in this hell of a situation.

Inside her pocket, she feels her phone buzz. When she unlocks it, the bright light of the screen makes her cringe a bit.

**chaewon**

almost there

wait for me outside?

Even if it’s just a text, Hyejoo imagines Chaewon’s expression typing that and feels a little more relieved. After all, if there’s someone she has always trusted, that’s Chaewon.

“Wait!” Hyejoo hears a voice behind her. It sounds slightly familiar, but then again, everyone sounds slightly familiar with alcohol in her system and loud music buzzing in her ears.

When she turns around, Jinsol’s arm still thrown over her shoulder, she instantly regrets her choice. She sees a guy coming towards them, a wide grin on his lips and a drink in each of his hands. What does he need two drinks for? He definitely looks sober—at least when compared to most of the other partygoers—and she seems to be alone.

“Hey,” he says, once she’s close enough to Hyejoo and Jinsol. Hyejoo studies his face: long nose, small eyes, glasses. Probably not much older than her. He doesn’t look familiar _at all_.

“Need something? We’re in a bit of a rush here,” Hyejoo says, not bothering with politeness. The sooner she gets this guy out of her way, the better. Jinsol makes a noise and rests her head on Hyejoo’s shoulder.

“Sorry, just wanted to talk to you. I think I’ve seen you around in class,” he explains, a coy smile plastered on his face. She might be drunk, but she knows he’s lying. Hyejoo takes pride in being observant, and she knows every single person in all of her classes. And she knows for a fact that she has never seen this guy before. “Wanna have a drink with me?”

Hyejoo frowns. “What?”

“Want a drink?” He repeats, a bit louder now, probably thinking that Hyejoo didn’t hear him the first time. He holds out a red cup, and the smell of alcohol mixed with something sweet makes Hyejoo feel sick.

“Um, sorry,” she says awkwardly. “My friend—she’s not feeling well. And, um, neither am I, so…”

“Oh.” The guy’s face falls visibly. Meanwhile, Jinsol nuzzles Hyejoo’s neck, wrapping both of her arms around her in a lazy hug and mustering a bunch of incomprehensible words that Hyejoo doesn’t even try to understand. There’s just so much a person like Hyejoo can take, and having a stranger—not only that, but a _male_ stranger—try to flirt with her and a drunk girl clinging to her like a koala is kind of overwhelming. “So… You are leaving already?”

Hyejoo nods, and tries to walk past him. She has no patience for this anymore. However, the guy still hasn’t given up.

“C’mon,” he says, “have a drink with me. Your friend will be okay.”

Hyejoo knows for a fact that Jinsol will _not_ be okay if she’s left alone, especially after Jungeun seemed so worried about making sure Hyejoo took care of her. (Hyejoo has never really seen Jungeun worry so much about someone besides Jiwoo, so she knows this must be important). She tightens her grip around Jinsol’s waist and glares at the guy, hoping it’ll scare him away.

“We _really_ have to go,” she says pointedly, and turns around before he can answer. She wants to get out of that house as soon as possible.

He opens her mouth and says something—judging by the expression on his face, something _annoying_ —but Hyejoo doesn’t even hear it.

Something else catches her attention.

A very familiar voice calls her name over the music, and Hyejoo’s heart forgets to work for a split second.

“Hyejoo!”

She isn’t sure if it’s the light or the fact that she might be slightly tipsy, but Hyejoo thinks she might be looking at an angel when she sees Chaewon walking towards her, pushing her way through the crowd with her small shoulders.

Her hair is tied in a messy ponytail, and she’s wearing an oversized sweater that once belonged to Hyunjin (who has tried to steal it back from her plenty of times, always without results). It definitely has to be the light, because Hyejoo isn’t sure Chaewon has ever looked this pretty.

Chaewon, an entire head and a half shorter than the guy, glowers at him, one of her pretty blonde curls falling messily over her forehead. She looks rather intimidating for, well, _Chaewon_ , and Hyejoo is surprised that someone so small can actually stand up to this guy without looking ridiculous.

As usual, Chaewon has a special talent for surprising Hyejoo.

“Is he bothering you?” Chaewon asks, not even sparing him another glance. Her eyebrows raise when she notices the state Jinsol is in, and it takes her a second to hold her by the waist in order to help her make the way to the car safely.

“I—” He starts talking. _Again_. But Chaewon shoots him a glare than could kill, her jaw tense. And it’s weird, because it’s probably the first time Hyejoo has seen her look so mad. She can understand why—after all, Jinsol is like an older sister to her.

“We’re leaving,” Chaewon cuts before he can open his mouth again. She turns to Hyejoo, and her gaze softens significatively. “Let’s go home.”

Home. For some reason, the word seems way too intimate for Hyejoo, who blushes and nods, looking away.

As they finally leave the place, Hyejoo can hear the guy mumbling something under his breath, something that sounds a little like ‘bitch’. With a deep breath, she resolves to ignore him, instead pulling Jinsol closer and focusing on not tripping on her own feet. Walking has been harder than expected for the past hour or so.

It takes them a few minutes to find Chaewon’s car, but the chilly air of the night is a blessing to Hyejoo. Instead of biting at her skin, the cold allows her to relax a bit, helps her clear her mind. She makes a mental note to throw some cold water on her face once they are home, just for good measure.

They help Jinsol get in the back seat. The older girl yawns and mumbles something, but Chaewon doesn’t pay her much attention and simply makes sure that her friend is wearing her seatbelt. She then turns to Hyejoo and gestures her to enter the vehicle.

The car small and probably second hand, though Hyejoo is more baffled at the realization that Chaewon _can drive_ a car. Just a new entry in the endless list of facts about Chaewon that Hyejoo ignores because she missed three years of her life.

It should make her sad. Oddly enough, what she feels is somehow more similar to anger.

Is it really her fault that she doesn’t know so many things about Chaewon?

“Are you ready?” Chaewon asks, closing the car door behind her.

“I didn’t know you had a car,” Hyejoo replies, and there’s a certain bitterness in her voice that she doesn’t like.

“Oh.” Chaewon starts the car, the old engine taking a bit to properly work. “This is actually Haseul’s car. She lets us borrow it for emergencies.”

Hyejoo presses her lips together, eyes glued on the street before her as Chaewon slowly speeds up. “I see.”

They drive silently for a few minutes, with Hyejoo struggling to keep her eyes open and Chaewon focusing on the road, a small frown on her face.

Jinsol’s voice calls from behind them. “Hyejoo.”

“Hmm?”

“Truth,” Jinsol says, and every single muscle in Hyejoo’s body tenses. Not now, please. Don’t ruin this, Jinsol. Chaewon doesn’t know what she’s talking about. But Hyejoo does. And she knows Jinsol is smart. She knows Jinsol _knows_ which questions to ask.

Chaewon stops the car when a traffic light turns red. She turns around to take a quick look at Jinsol, who’s almost asleep but still awake enough to remember her little game with Hyejoo.

“What is she even talking about?”

“Don’t know. She’s just really drunk.” Hyejoo shrugs, like it’s no big deal.

Behind her, Jinsol hums in agreement. It makes Chaewon chuckle.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Jinsol asks.

Every word stabs Hyejoo, a sharp made of an uncomfortable feeling. Shame, perhaps.

It’s a good question, Hyejoo has to admit. A question she has asked herself plenty of times before, in the most diverse situations: watching Chaewon screaming at the TV when she saw Seunghee from Oh My Girl on a variety show; at dinner, when the remains of a noodle would stick on the corner of Chaewon’s mouth; early in the morning, as Chaewon sleepily made her way to the kitchen in her pineapple pyjamas.

Chaewon glances quickly at Hyejoo, her brows knitted together in a confused expression. At least she doesn’t understand. At least she isn’t also trying to pry an answer out of Hyejoo. Much to her relief, she doesn’t know what Hyejoo would love to tell her, but is too scared to say out loud.

With a sheepish smile, Hyejoo waves her hand, dismissing Jinsol’s words. Chaewon doesn’t seem to be very interested, because she doesn’t ask again.

Though she doesn’t say another word for the rest of the drive home, Hyejoo replays her answer in her mind again and again and again. She knew it before Jinsol even asked the question. She knows it will be the same when she wakes up tomorrow, her mind finally free from alcohol.

_I’m scared._

Unfortunately, it has been the same all her life.

* * *

They make it home safely, with Jinsol now being sleepy rather than drunk.

Hyejoo is still in a bit of a daze, trying to help Jinsol get comfortable while also trying to sort her feelings out. She hadn’t expected to get drunk (she believed she could handle her drinks better) and she hadn’t expected alcohol to have this kind of effect on her.

It’s frightening, how wild her emotions are running inside her right now. She can’t barely even look at Chaewon because she looks _so cute_ right now, in good lighting, even with tiredness clear in her expression. Hyejoo would love to just walk to her and squeeze her in a hug. Maybe even…

No.

Shaking the thought away, she focuses on Jinsol. That’s what matters now. Much more important than thinking creepy things about Chaewon.

Their couch is way too small to let Jinsol sleep there, so Hyejoo offers her bedroom. She has fallen asleep on the couch plenty of times before—it’s definitely uncomfortable, but she doesn’t want Jinsol having back pains in the morning. She’ll probably have enough with the hangover that’s coming her way.

“You can’t sleep on the couch,” Chaewon says worriedly, as they help Jinsol into Hyejoo’s bed. The older girl nuzzles the pillow happily and is fast to start snoring. Hyejoo chuckles at the sight.

“I don’t mind,” she lies. She thought she would kind of regret letting Jinsol have her bed, but she looks so peaceful that is almost endearing.

“But I do.”

“Chaewon, it’s okay, I—”

“Sleep with me,” Chaewon interrupts. Hyejoo opens her eyes, completely caught off-guard. Blood starts rushing to her cheeks, and Chaewon probably realizes just how _wrong_ that sounded because her face also turns a shade of pink. “I—I mean! We, um… We can share my bed. There’s plenty of space.”

Chaewon’s bed is about the same size as Hyejoo’s, so that may be far from the truth. But Chaewon is so earnest, with that blush on her cheeks and her eyes bright. Hyejoo cannot bring herself to say no. To be honest, if Chaewon asked her to murder a man for her in this moment, Hyejoo wouldn’t hesitate to say yes.

That’s probably why she shrugs and says, “Sure. I don’t mind.”

Somehow, Hyejoo finds herself in Chaewon’s bed, wearing her old ugly pyjamas and doing her best not to blush like an idiot.

It’s hard, because the bed is so small, and she doesn’t want to be rude by turning her back to Chaewon, but part of her is telling her to run away. And the worst thing is—the rest of her wants this _so bad_. This closeness is exactly what she craves. If she can at least have a taste of it, maybe she will learn to get over it.

(She knows it’s not that easy. She does. But sometimes, lying to herself makes things simpler.)

Chaewon is tucked into the covers, checking something on her phone. When she’s done, she places it carefully on the nightstand and rolls onto her side so Hyejoo and her are facing one another.

The dim glow of the street creeps into the bedroom, just enough to let Hyejoo see all of Chaewon’s features clearly. It might be the light, or the alcohol, or the fact that she’s in love with this girl, but everything feels like a dream right now.

“Still drunk?” Chaewon asks with a chuckle that tingles Hyejoo’s skin. Her voice is sleepy, a little lower than usual, and Hyejoo knows she’s really struggling not to fall asleep. Thinking that Chaewon has been awake for so long just for her (and Jinsol, of course), makes her heart swell.

“Not really,” she says, a smile of comfort on her lips. “I just need to sleep it off.”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything?”

Hyejoo takes a deep breath, slightly overwhelmed by everything she’s feeling.

“I’m fine. Don’t worry so much, okay?” Before she can’t stop herself, she reaches for a loose strand of Chaewon’s hair, tucking it behind her ear with great care. She lets her hand linger for a second longer than it should, praying that Chaewon won’t notice.

They look at each other in silence, and suddenly there’s a moment.

It’s short, shorter than a heartbeat, but it’s there. There’s a moment where Hyejoo knows she should just lean forward, kiss Chaewon and blame it all on the alcohol on the morning, but she doesn’t. There’s that moment where Chaewon should stop looking at Hyejoo like _that_ , but she doesn’t.

Instead, one of her hand reaches for Hyejoo’s and intertwines their fingers together.

“Hyejoo,” she whispers, so soft that Hyejoo isn’t sure if she actually heard it or she’s making things up in her head. Chaewon stares at her, barely even blinking, mouth slightly open. She says it like she has just realized something, and it makes Hyejoo’s heart tighten.

They’re so close together, Hyejoo thinks, and the space between them only seems to get smaller and smaller, shrinking every time they breathe. She can’t even look away, because all there is around her is Chaewon, Chaewon and Chaewon.

“What?” she asks instead.

Chaewon presses her lips together, like she’s holding back her answer, and Hyejoo can’t help but frown. She feels dizzy, and she knows it’s not because of the alcohol. Either her mind is playing tricks on her or she’s just going insane, but—Chaewon is closer now. She really is.

“It’s just…” Chaewon says, her fingers squeezing Hyejoo’s hand. “Sometimes I can’t believe it’s you.”

It makes no sense.

Hyejoo doesn’t even know what the older girl is even talking about. She might as well be dreaming, because all of this feels surreal. What the hell is wrong with her?

But something inside her pushes her to say, “It’s always been me.”

Chaewon smiles, a smile that Hyejoo has never seen before.

“I know,” she says, her thumb caressing Hyejoo’s skin softly. “Goodnight, Hyejoo.”

For a few moments, watching as Chaewon closes her eyes, Hyejoo doesn’t move. Although she feels slightly uncomfortable and knows her arm will hurt like a bitch in the morning, she doesn’t move—she doesn’t _dare_ to.

Chaewon looks so content, her eyes closed, the curl of her eyelashes casting a shadow over her cheeks, her lips slightly parted. Her breathing becomes steady when she falls asleep after a couple of minutes, but she never lets go of Hyejoo’s hand, doesn’t let her grip on her become weaker.

Maybe it’s easier this way—sharing a bed and having Hyejoo pretend she’s not in love with Chaewon and having Chaewon pretend she doesn’t pity her for it.

Hyejoo blinks rapidly so her eyes stop burning, but she still can see Chaewon’s soft features in front of her, she still can feel her breath brushing her skin, she still can smell her shampoo in the pillow they are sharing.

But she’s still Chaewon, always out of reach. Even though they’re holding hands, it’s like she’s going to slip between her fingers at any time. Because she’s still Chaewon, and Hyejoo is still Hyejoo, and they were never meant for each other.

“Goodnight, Chaewon,” she whispers, choking back a small sob.

And so Hyejoo just closes her eyes, ignores the knot in her chest, and doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.

* * *

A week after the party, Hyejoo finds herself in Sooyoung’s apartment. She struggles writing a paper for one of her classes, while Sooyoung sits on the couch, reading a book in her most comfortable clothes. The small clock that hangs awkwardly on the wall indicates that Hyejoo has been there for around four hours, which only adds to the frustration that has dominated her emotions lately.

She and Chaewon haven’t talked about that night, yet. Hyejoo isn’t even sure that there’s something to talk about, but the way Chaewon has subtly been avoiding her ever since tells her that they should _definitely_ talk about it. Whatever ‘it’ is.

Hyejoo really wants to blame it on their classes. With winter break approaching, both she and Chaewon have been pretty busy with studies. But she knows there have been other times were Chaewon was just as overwhelmed with school, and she still managed to find time to spend with Hyejoo.

(She ignores the fact that, despite all, Chaewon still finds that time to hang out with Sooyoung. At the very least she _tries_ to ignore it, because the way her stomach twists into knots and her jaw clenches when she thinks about it… Well, she knows she cannot ignore it. Not for much longer.)

The weather keeps getting darker day by day, and Hyejoo’s mood seems to follow it suit. Winter has always been her favorite season, and yet now she prays for it to be over already.

It’s so hard to deal with it, when all the conversations she’s had with Chaewon lately are about the weather or Sooyoung or Sooyoung and the weather.

_‘Oh, don’t you just love rainy days, Hyejoo? I just love the sound of it against the window!’_

_‘Sooyoung and I went to the cutest coffee shop the other day, you’d love it!’_

_‘Look at this sweater I bought! Sooyoung chose it. Does it look good?’_ , and so on.

On and on. All the time. Every single day.

Hyejoo isn’t sure she can stand it anymore.

“I think Chaewon is in love with you,” she says rather bitterly. The words come out before she can consider it twice, full of poison that stings her tongue.

Although she expected to feel better after having said it out loud, she doesn’t—because now it seems like it’s real. Perhaps Hyejoo has just talked it into existence. Perhaps Chaewon is actually in love with Sooyoung because she said so.

Just the thought of it is terrifying.

Sooyoung’s eyes shoot up to look at Hyejoo, lips slightly parted in confusion. It’s hard to tell whether she’s more surprised by Hyejoo’s sudden boldness or by her statement. Probably a mix of both.

“You _think_ so?” Sooyoung asks, her voice both careful and curious. “Or did she tell you? Like, explicitly?”

“No, she… She didn’t say anything,” Hyejoo explains, shaking her head. “It’s just—I think she’s in love with you.”

“Really? _You_ think Chaewon is in love with _me_?” Sooyoung hums, the corner of her mouth arching in a small grin. The look in her eyes is that of a person who knows something that the rest of the world doesn’t when she says, “Well. I think Chaewon is a little in love with everyone, you know?”

The way she says it annoys Hyejoo. It almost sounds like she’s making fun of her, which is not nice.

Sooyoung isn’t stupid. She knows how Hyejoo feels about Chaewon—hell, she probably knew before Hyejoo herself realized—and her saying this is almost cruel. Why does Sooyoung think that trying to give Hyejoo hope will do her any good?

“Whatever,” Hyejoo says, rolling her eyes, well aware of how angry she probably sounds. At this point, she isn’t even trying to hide it.

One of Sooyoung’s eyebrows shoots up, and she closes her book, placing it on the table as she stares at Hyejoo, the hint of a frown on her expression.

“Why are you mad at me all of the sudden? I was just saying.”

“And I was just saying, too,” Hyejoo bites back, her insides starting to burn with a very familiar feeling. She tries to distract herself reading her class notes, but to no avail. The words on the paper don’t even make sense to her anymore—it’s like she’s reading a bunch of scribbles in another language.

“I wasn’t even the one who brought that up,” Sooyoung says offhandedly.

“ _Whatever_ , Sooyoung,” Hyejoo says again through gritted teeth.

“I just don’t get why you’re telling me this, since you _obviously_ don’t care about it,” Sooyoung drawls, sitting back on the couch comfortably. Her posture and the faint grin on her lips are a clear sign that she’s relaxed—not only that, but she has taken control of the situation. As usual.

She clearly is trying to get Hyejoo to talk. That’s such a Sooyoung thing: making others talk about their feelings by being annoying and acting like she’s better than the rest of the world.

Hyejoo knows she shouldn’t fall for it, but she does anyway. In that very moment, all the anger she had been bottling up for the past months starts to overflow.

“I’m telling you because Chaewon is my friend, and I want her to be happy,” she says, her hands shaking on her lap. Worst part of this? She’s telling Sooyoung the truth. “I don’t want her to get her heart broken.”

_Because I know how it feels_ , she wants to add, but she doesn’t.

They stare at each other in silence for a few seconds that feels way too long. Sooyoung studies her with her smart eyes, probably looking for the right words to tell her. That’s another Sooyoung thing: thinking carefully before talking.

(Hyejoo can’t relate to that.)

“Well, if Chaewon really is in love with me, she probably has already gotten her heart broken.” Sooyoung shrugs. “Jiwoo and I have been together for over a year now. At this point, she knows she doesn’t stand a chance.”

Hyejoo presses her lips together, feeling like Sooyoung has ripped her apart and is now looking right into her, seeing all the truths she had buried inside her, hoping that they would somehow disappear there.

“So,” Sooyoung stares at her in the eye, and Hyejoo has to look away, “why are you really telling me this?”

Somehow, that’s enough to make Hyejoo’s brittle patience break.

“Fuck you.” Hyejoo stands, kicking her chair. She’s probably screaming, but she’ can’t really tell—the only thing she hears in blood pumping against her ears, the sound getting louder with every thump. “You know why I’m telling you this. I’m so sick of you making fun of me.”

Sooyoung crosses her arms over her chest, not moving from her spot, which only makes Hyejoo angrier. Why does Sooyoung always have to act so morally superior? Why does Hyejoo have to lose her temper while Sooyoung remains calm as ever? Why can’t Sooyoung understand her?

“I’m not making fun of you, Hyejoo,” Sooyoung says carefully, and Hyejoo hates that, deep inside, knows that’s the truth. But in this very moment, she’s being controlled by a part of her that is angry, a part that only wants to find something hurtful to say that will make Sooyoung feel as bad as Hyejoo is feeling. “I want to help you figure everything out.”

“Wow, thank you _so much_ , Sooyoung!” Hyejoo says with a bitter chuckle. “You know what would really help me? If you stopped being so fucking condescending! That would be really helpful, because I’m _so_ tired of you treating me like I’m stupid!”

At least Sooyoung has the decency to seem slightly taken aback by that.

“I apologize if I’ve ever made you feel that way, Hyejoo,” she says, and Hyejoo wishes she would just stand up and punch her right in the face. That would hurt way less that her being so fucking reasonable and mature in this situation. It only makes Hyejoo feel angrier. “And I can understand why you’re mad at me, especially after what you’ve told me, but—”

“But what? _What_?”

Hyejoo has been this angry before. She used to be angry all the time, back in high school. A kind of anger that was dormant, but that was easily awoken by the stupidest of things—someone running into her by accident, her sister making a joke in the wrong moment—and that would make her days really hard to navigate.

That’s the kind of anger that is controlling her right now, overpowering her reason, making her simmer with rage.

“It’s not my fault you think you don’t deserve to be with her. And it’s not my fault either that you’re scared of admitting it,” Sooyoung says, every word coming out of her mouth slow and cutting. Yeah, a punch would have definitely hurt Hyejoo way less. “But you need to stop placing the blame on others, and start taking control of your life.”

“I’m not placing the blame on others.”

Hyejoo blames nobody but herself for the straining of her relationship with Chaewon. It was her fault, for sharing too much, for asking Chaewon for too much. She doesn’t blame Sooyoung—after all, it’s not her fault that Chaewon fell for her. If anything, it’s also Hyejoo’s fault, for not being able to be better, to find something inside herself that would make Chaewon look at her.

A long sigh escapes Sooyoung’s lips, tired but not angry.

“Look, Hyejoo, I… I really want to help you,” Sooyoung says, her voice so earnest that it feels like a slap across the face. “But there’s only so much I can do about this. You need to figure things out, because this is obviously hurting you.”

“I’m trying,” Hyejoo says, the words sounding weird because—well, she’s crying. God, she has cried so much about this already. She’s so tired of crying. “I’m really trying.”

A familiar smile appears on Sooyoung’s lips, the softness in her eyes welcoming. Hyejoo basically jumps into her hug, full-on sobbing against the older girl’s shoulder. All the anger turned into salted water, her body washing the negativity with her crying.

Sooyoung is probably also tired of dealing with Hyejoo’s breakdowns, but she still holds her in her arms, runs a hand through her hair.

No wonder why Chaewon is in love with this girl. Sooyoung is, in the purest sense of the word, _good_. And Hyejoo has been so cruel to her, yet she’s still willing to support her. She’s so good. Better than Hyejoo will ever be.

“Take your time, Hyejoo,” Sooyoung says.

Hyejoo nods, and promises herself that she’ll follow Sooyoung’s advice.

For once in her life, she’ll try to do what’s best for her.

* * *

It only takes Hyejoo another week until she finally reaches her breaking point.

If you had asked her a couple years ago, she would have accepted it—being the second choice. She craved validation so desperately, she would have done anything to have Chaewon back, to have Chaewon pay her attention even if she knew that the other girl was in love with someone else.

But today—it’s too hard to accept.

Hyejoo doesn’t know if it means she has grown or she’s just getting worse.

If one thing’s for sure, it’s that she _feels_ worse. The worst she has felt in a while.

Every feeling she has tried to push aside for the past months—for the past _years_ —is trying to crush her today, a weigh on her she can barely lift. She wakes up in the morning with a heaviness inside her that makes it harder to move, to breathe. Even though she forces herself to carry it without complaints, like she thinks she might have done for a long time, it becomes a little too much.

Today, everything is a little too much.

She watches as the world moves around her, like fish in an aquarium, only Hyejoo is sure she’s the one trapped in a crystal tank, where people can see her but never get to her. Hyejoo watches the world and the world watches her back, but she’s not a part of it. When did she start feeling like this? Was Hyejoo born not belonging, or did she just lose herself on the journey?

There’s only one place in the world where she doesn’t always feel like that. Where sometimes she’s just _there_ , one part of an all, a piece that the machine needs in order to work.

Silently, like an automaton, her body moving on its own, Hyejoo grabs an umbrella and walks towards the closest subway station. She walks into the train, doesn’t take a seat. The girl looking back at her from her reflection on the train’s windows doesn’t look familiar at all. When people walk in and out at every stop, the bump into her, and Hyejoo wonders if they can even see her at all.

She feels like a ghost as she walks out of the train, climbs the stairs out of the station.

(In the back of her mind, a memory keeps replaying—a memory of Hyejoo, wandering through the streets of her hometown not long after she last sees Chaewon. When she gets home, she breaks down crying in her older sister’s arms, and when asked about it, she pretends that none of it happened.

It all is too familiar. Hyejoo thinks this is just a _déjà vu_.)

When she knocks on the door of Sooyoung’s place, the last thing Hyejoo expects is Jungeun being the one opening the door.

“You’re kind of earl—oh,” Jungeun says, brows arching when she sees Hyejoo standing there, fidgeting awkwardly. “Hyejoo?” Hi.”

“Uh… Hi. I… I thought Sooyoung would be home,” Hyejoo says, feeling her face heat up. She’s shaking a little, but hopes that Jungeun doesn’t notice—it’d be _so_ embarrassing to have a break down in front of her.

“She’s out with Jiwoo, I think.” Jungeun blinks when Hyejoo doesn’t reply. “Want to come in?”

Hyejoo bites her lower lip, thinks of her answer for a moment. “Um. Sure.”

The place is empty—Haseul is probably at work, Sooyoung is apparently out with Jiwoo and Jinsol… is probably somewhere—so Hyejoo wonders what Jungeun is doing there, on her own. As far as Hyejoo’s aware, Jungeun doesn’t have a copy of the keys. Only Vivi does, because she’s the most trustworthy out of all them.

Hyejoo sits on the couch, which feels like stone under her legs. She hears the door closing, though her eyes are fixated on the wall in front of her. The paint is chipped in certain places, letting the originally grey wall show. Stupidly enough, Hyejoo thinks she’s like that chipped paint—a small stain of a dark colour, surrounded by an ocean of white.

So out of place.

“Hyejoo, are you alright?” Jungeun’s voices sounds far away, almost muffled. When she turns to look back at her, Hyejoo notices the worried expression on her face. She looks away almost instantly. “You are kind of pale. Do you feel sick, or…?”

Her concern is so earnest, so genuine that it catches Hyejoo off guard.

It starts raining, the light outside the apartment getting dimmer behind the clouds. Hyejoo focuses on the sound of it, with Jungeun watching her silently, waiting for an answer.

(Does Hyejoo feel sick? Yes. All the time. She feels especially sick when she looks at Chaewon and her heartbeat rushes, or when she thinks that she looks particularly pretty that day, or when their hands touch and she lets it linger. It all makes her feel sick inside—a sickness that goes beyond health—but she cannot stop herself from doing it anyway.)

She looks at Jungeun, and when she speaks, it comes out in a sob.

“I… I—I like Chaewon,” Hyejoo finally manages to blurt out, feeling her chest tighten as words leave her lips. “A lot,” she adds, even though she knows the way her voice shakes is enough to get her point across.

Jungeun’s shoulders seem to relax, and her frown slowly transforms into the shadow of a smile. She looks almost relieved, although there’s still worry in her expression—after all, Hyejoo can barely hold back her tears now.

Quickly sitting next to her, Jungeun places a careful arm around her shoulders. “Hey, Hyejoo,” she says, “look at me. Hey, c’mon. Don’t cry.”

“Not crying,” Hyejoo mutters and then sniffs. She’s not used to cry, let alone to cry in front of people.

Squeezing her a little tighter, Jungeun lets out a soft chuckle. Even if Hyejoo is very thankful for the support, she feels slightly disappointed—because it’s obvious that Jungeun doesn’t understand. Doesn’t know just how huge this all is, how much it has hurt Hyejoo (and how much Hyejoo has let it hurt her).

A thumb brushes away some tears that Hyejoo didn’t notice were there. Her head is swimming, and all she can think about is how badly this is making her feel. Why did she allow this horrible monster of a feeling to settle inside her? Can she even fight it away now? Because she isn’t sure she can deal with it much longer.

Next to them, the door of the apartment clicks open. Balancing two cups of boba and a paper bag (Hyejoo recognises it: Hyunjin’s favourite bakery), Jinsol walks into the place with a huge grin on her lips.

“I have acquired the supplies,” she announces solemnly, making a funny voice. Hyejoo notices as Jungeun debates herself between smiling and grimacing. (And for a second she wonders again—when did these two become so close? Close enough to hang out alone? Hm…)

In typical Jinsol fashion, her grin widens when she notices Hyejoo.

“Baby! What are you doing here? You should have told me you were coming!”

“Baby…?” Jungeun mutters, low enough that Jinsol doesn’t notice.

Jinsol places the boba and the bag on the coffee table, takes a seat on the empty stop next to Hyejoo. Despite the rainy weather, her hair looks amazing, and although she had work in the morning, she’s changed from her uniform into something nicer.

(Hyejoo kicks herself mentally, feeling dumber even than before. She’s _obviously_ interrupting something that was supposed to be private.)

Having noticed the gloomy atmosphere of the room, Jinsol’s grin softens into a very different expression. It’s almost surprising, seeing Jinsol stray from her usual Cool! and Sweet! persona. Smart as she’s always been, she doesn’t try to hold Hyejoo, knowing that more physical comfort would probably just make things awkward.

“Is everything okay?” Her eyes move to Jungeun, while Hyejoo looks away.

Jungeun hesitates. “Well, Hyejoo was telling me about something… But I don’t know if she wants to talk about it anymore.”

“I have a crush on Chaewon,” Hyejoo blurts out. This is the second time she’s said it out loud. Shouldn’t she feel any better? “ _Crush_ ,” she thinks. “ _What a fucking stupid word_.”

Jinsol and Jungeun are quiet for so long that Hyejoo considers simply getting up and leaving. Abandoning her secret for them to take care of it. “ _There you go, all my feelings—do as you please with them. I don’t think I need them anymore. Bye!_ ” That would make her life so much easier.

With the tenderness she has come to expect from her, Jinsol is the one to break the silence.

“You know having a crush is not a bad thing, right?” Her words are chosen with great care, straight to the point but still avoiding the _real_ problem. Hyejoo knows they’ll get there, sooner or later, whether she wants it or not. After all, that’s what she wanted when she so desperately knocked on Sooyoung’s door—some kind of big revelation.

“I know, it’s just… I—it’s… It’s Chaewon.” God, saying her name feels so wrong. Hyejoo wants to run back home and apologise to her. “She’s my friend. Like, my best friend, my roommate. I can’t like her. I just… I _can’t_.”

(She doesn’t mean she can’t like her in a “oh em gee I can’t believe I like her!” kind of way. She means it in a “I can’t like her because it feels wrong and disgusting” kind of way.)

Jungeun’s hand rubs small circles on her back, comforting. “Yeah, Hyejoo, she is all of that,” she says. “And it’s completely normal to have a crush on one of your friends. Plus, you two live together, and that’s… Well, that only makes it easier for feelings to grow, y’know?”

“I know, but…” Hyejoo buries her face in her hands. Her head hurts. “I just—feel creepy. Like I’m doing something wrong.”

Jinsol and Jungeun exchange a knowing glance.

“Is this the first time you’ve said this out loud, Hyejoo?”

“Second time, actually,” Hyejoo points out dryly. “I told Jungeun like, five minutes ago.”

“No, I mean—the thing about thinking you’re being creepy.”

Hold on. Hyejoo opens her mouth to reply, then closes it. She doesn’t know the answer to that.

“I don’t… I don’t think so?”

Jinsol’s expression changes—she’s obviously holding back a smile—and the look in her eye does, too. Hyejoo doesn’t miss the way she suddenly seems more relaxed, like she now has control of the whole situation.

Smiling, Jinsol grabs one of the cups of boba she brought and offers it to Hyejoo, who blinks confusedly at it.

“You need some sugar to light up a bit, baby,” Jinsol explains. “I’d give you Jungeun’s, but her boba order is simply disgusting,” she adds with a knowing wink.

“What!?” Jungeun lets out an offended gasp, and Hyejoo notices she’s blushing a bit. Even if she usually acts so mature, Jungeun seems really easy to tease once you get to know her.

Jinsol’s kindness still catches Hyejoo off guard, but she accepts the cup and feels a smile creeping up her lips. A genuine smile. It’s been a few days since Hyejoo last felt in the mood of smiling, or doing anything that wasn’t moping around and self-pitying.

The older girls start bickering (playfully, of course—Hyejoo still thinks this was supposed to be a date), and Hyejoo silently sips on her boba, letting the sweetness take over.

After a long, comfortable silence, Hyejoo notices Jinsol staring at her. Waiting for the right moment to go back to the conversation, force Hyejoo to talk about this—about something she has _never_ addressed out loud, apparently.

Jungeun speaks first, her tone both kind and serious.

“So… Regarding this whole ‘being creepy’ issue,” she starts, glancing quickly at Jinsol, who always seems to find the right word. “Do you think Sooyoung and Jiwoo dating is creepy?”

What in the…? Hyejoo frowns.

“No! Of course it’s not.” If anything, she’s kind of jealous. Those two are so in love it can be sickening sometimes. Hyejoo blushes wildly at the thought of having a relationship like theirs with Cha… with _someone_.

Jungeun nods, satisfied. “Okay, now picture this. Imagine I have a crush on Jinsol. Is that creepy?”

“No,” Hyejoo says, looking at Jinsol out of the corner of her eye. Jinsol, who is gorgeous, and funny, and surprisingly smart. Jinsol, who is grinning like a kid on Christmas morning right now. “No, it’s not.”

“So why is it creepy when you have a crush on Chaewon?”

Hyejoo’s shoulders drop, and her vision goes back to being blurry. Why is it creepy? She doesn’t know. Maybe if she knew, she could make it stop.

“I—I genuinely don’t know. I just… I feel gross. Like I’m doing something I shouldn’t.” She pauses for a second and then—the words are spilling over before she can do anything about it. “Every time I look at her I just—I feel like this. She always looks so pretty, and I want to tell her but I can’t because it feels like I’m overstepping some kind of boundary, because—because… I don’t know. We live together, and she’s always so sweet and nice, while all I do is think she’s cute and smart and I want to… I want to kiss her and hold her hand and it all feels straight up wrong. I feel sick all the time because I _know_ I’m doing something wrong.”

Almost in sync, both Jinsol and Jungeun place a hand on top of Hyejoo’s (Jinsol, on the left, also gives her a tight squeeze). They look… sad. But they don’t pity her. They _understand_ this. Everything Hyejoo is saying, they understand.

And then Jinsol says—

“But none of that is wrong, Hyejoo.”

And for a moment, Hyejoo believes it.

For a moment, there’s this clarity inside her where all the doubts and the shame were before. For a moment, Hyejoo tells herself “ _there’s nothing wrong with you_ ” and she _believes_ it.

It fades in a second, a flame blown away by the wind, disappears as soon as it came.

But even if it’s gone, Hyejoo can almost taste the feeling. And the best part of it all—she knows she can feel like this. She knows that, deep inside, she has it in her to get rid of all this hatred she has for herself.

“Promise me something,” Jinsol says. “Next time you feel like this, or when you think you’re having ‘creepy’ thoughts ,” she makes exaggerated finger commas, “just text me, or Jungeun. So we can tell you that you’re not being weird at all. I know it’s not much, but this isn’t something you can do overnight. You need to take baby steps at first. Then, before you can even realize, all of this will be left behind.”

“And promise us,” Jungeun adds, her voice serious, “that you won’t be so hard on yourself, okay?”

Hyejoo winces. That’s definitely easier said than done.

Jinsol pouts dramatically. But Hyejoo notices—she’s not pushing her. Neither of them is. They’re offering her a helping hand.

And she could really use one, right now.

“Promise us?”

Although tentatively, Hyejoo nods. Jinsol sounds so sure, and Jungeun is nodding so eagerly—her hand still tightly wrapped around Hyejoo’s—that she cannot bring herself to tell them no.

“Great!” Jinsol grins, and so does Jungeun. A fuzzy feeling tickles Hyejoo’s insides. She’s so happy, so lucky to have them as her friends. “Now let’s eat these muffins, I’m starving!”

* * *

A few hours later, Hyejoo finally decides it’s time to go back home.

She leaves feeling a little bit better. Not much—because that sudden epiphany she had didn’t last long enough—but at least it’s something. It can be something, the start of the change she needs in her life right now.

Maybe Jinsol and Jungeun are right. Maybe she can really use their help, try to learn to finally accept herself, her feelings and perhaps learn to be comfortable with her life at last.

Maybe this was just the push she needed.

She steps into the streets, not even bothering to open her umbrella. It’s barely drizzling now, but the cold raindrops on her face feel refreshing. Cleansing. If she wants a new beginning—if she wants to even have a beginning at all—she needs to get rid of all the negativity that’s been eating her alive for the past years.

Hyejoo closes her eyes, and with a deep breath, takes a step forward.

* * *

**act iii: tomorrow**

* * *

It’s a miracle that Hyejoo manages to survive finals week, but anything is possible if you drink enough Monster. The one thing that stops her from losing her mind is that she knows what comes after getting over finals: going back home for winter break. Chaewon’s constant encouragement—including, although not limited to: sticky notes with words of support, surprise snacks and staying up late in solidarity with Hyejoo—also helps.

Winter break is basically the only thing the girls talk about lately. All their conversations are the same: what they’re getting their families for Christmas, what they’re going to do, how much everyone is looking forward to going home. Only two of them don’t seem particularly happy about winter break: Sooyoung, who quietly mentions she’ll be staying with her aunt (and Hyejoo doesn’t miss the flash of sadness in Jiwoo’s expression when she says it), and Haseul, who won’t be going home and will instead spend holidays with Vivi in Seoul.

In all honesty, Hyejoo has mixed feelings about going back home.

On the one hand, she’s excited to see her parents and Minjoo again, and she has already made plans with Yeojin and Yerim (who’s also coming back for Christmas!) that she’s very much looking forward to. On the other hand, however, going home feels like a step back from all the progress she thinks she’s made as a person. Like she’s going to find her old self at home, waiting for her, waiting to drag her back to that dark place.

But she wants to stay positive.

She wants to keep the promise she made to Jinsol and Jungeun. They both take care of her in their own personal way—Jinsol, with her unabashed affection and her not-always-timely hugs and her never-ending words of support; Jungeun with her knowing smiles, her hand softly squeezing for Hyejoo’s in the right moments, her glances every now and then to make sure she’s doing fine.

They deserve it, although sometimes it’s hard. Sometimes Hyejoo just can’t get past the dark wall that blurs her vision, can’t find a hand to support her even when she’s reaching out for help. But she still tries, still forces herself to smile and try to ignore all the negativity that wanders around in the back of her mind. She still reads Jinsol and Jungeun’s texts of support, even when they just feel like empty words to her.

Because, yeah: surprisingly enough (surprisingly for her, at least) Hyejoo actually texts Jinsol and Jungeun. _A lot_.

It’s mortifying at first. Then it becomes just a bit embarrassing. When she gets used to texting them almost every day (it’s not Hyejoo’s fault Chaewon does things that make her heart go boom every day, okay?), it almost doesn’t feel weird at all.

While Jungeun’s messages are usually short and straight to the point, always focusing on helping Hyejoo get over her sudden rushes of insecurity and her feelings of creepiness, Jinsol’s are just… unbearably supportive. The girl seems to have a special talent for persuading Hyejoo of doing things she would have never thought about doing before they had their heart to heart talk.

(The most recent example goes like this:

**hyejoo**

help

**fish unnie**

WHAT’S THE EMERGENCY?

U OKAY???

**hyejoo**

chaewon is wearing your blue shirt and she looks very pretty

what do i do i feel weird staring at her

**fish unnie**

absolutely valid!!!

i saw a girl so pretty today that i tripped and almost fell down

you should tell her!!! she’ll appreciate it

**hyejoo**

yeah not happening

that’ll be weirder

**fish unnie**

no it won’t!!!

trust me!!!!

plus it’ll be good for you to get it off your chest

**hyejoo**

i can’t

**fish unnie**

but you told me!! you CAN tell her

**hyejoo**

no

**fish unnie**

pwetty pwease 🥺

**hyejoo**

…

**fish unnie**

🥺

**hyejoo**

………fine

**fish unnie**

amazing!!! I’m so proud of you

oh and also

tell her to give back my shirt or i’ll kill her 💙

With a deep breath, Hyejoo puts her phone down and looks at Chaewon. They’re sitting next to each other—a little too close for Hyejoo’s mental stability—and the older girl is focused on watching a YouTube tutorial on how to make dalgona coffee. Her hair is up in a ponytail, her cheeks a soft shade of pink because she just got home not long ago, and it takes Hyejoo a couple of minutes before she finds it in her to speak.

“H-hey, Chaewon,” she says, voice low and kind of shaky. God, she probably sounds ridiculous right now.

The faint nose of the video stops abruptly, and Chaewon turns her head to look at Hyejoo, her ponytail bouncing as she moves. Sometimes Hyejoo still cannot believe this is the same girl who always made fun of her for being short, and now she’s the one looking up at Hyejoo with her fairy eyes.

“Hmm?”

Hyejoo makes a face, because—this is hard for her.

“I… It’s just… You look—uh. You look p-pretty today.” Every word struggles to leave her lips, like it’s being pulled back by the same voice inside her that tells her that Chaewon is going to be creeped out by her and that this is disgusting and that Hyejoo should feel ashamed for feeling like this.

But Chaewon’s face lights up with just the right kind of smile—a smile that’s nothing like the expression of disgust that Hyejoo expected. Her eyes sparkle, soft and thankful, and her hand quickly reaches for Hyejoo’s, rests on top of it like it’s second nature. Completely normal for her.

This… This isn’t rejection.

Hyejoo almost can’t believe it.

This is _not_ rejection.

“Thank you,” Chaewon says, a contentment in her voice that Hyejoo could get used to hear. For a moment, Hyejoo could swear she’s about to add something—but she doesn’t. Instead, she goes back to watching videos on her phone, a silent smile plastered across her lips.

Her hand doesn’t move away from Hyejoo’s.)

Hyejoo really wants to believe that she has made real progress. That she has changed for the better. That she’s finally becoming the person she was meant to be, and not the sad, angry version of herself she’s been stuck with for the past eighteen years.

On the train ride back home, she prays that all of it is true.

* * *

The day before New Year’s Eve, Hyejoo and Minjoo go out for lunch to their favourite Chinese restaurant. It’s kind of a tradition of theirs—they’ve been doing this ever since Minjoo left home for college and wanted some “time alone to bond with her sister” when she came back.

Being home has been good so far. Way better than Hyejoo expected. On the first few days living on her own, she had missed her hometown a bit, took a while to get used to her new place. Now she thinks she’s going to struggle getting used to the house that’s been her home her whole life.

Her parents are obviously very happy to see her (and Hyejoo is almost surprised when she realizes how much she had missed them), and they haven’t barely left her any time alone ever since she got off that train. They ask an awful lot of questions—about Seoul, about university, about her friends, about Chaewon…

If they notice any changes in her, they say nothing. Admittedly, Hyejoo is a little disappointed at that. She hoped that her family, of all people, would notice her little improvements (or perhaps even little pieces of her breakdown with Jinsol and Jungeun), but all they do is talk about is how prettier she’s gotten and scold her for not calling more often.

Her older sister, Minjoo, seems to notice. At least, that’s what Hyejoo thinks. Minjoo has been acting weird ever since she got home—later on the same day Hyejoo did—and Hyejoo isn’t even sure if it’s because of _her_. She loves her sister, but seeing through her is difficult.

In spite of her unusual behaviour, Minjoo still invites Hyejoo to continue with their tradition, claiming that they have a lot of catching up to do. (Hyejoo laughs nervously at that. Minjoo probably doesn’t even imagine all the things she’s missed in Hyejoo’s life.) Not that Hyejoo would ever say no to free food, even if there were no sisterly bonding involved.

There’s a strange feeling of familiarity when they walk into that hole-in-the-wall restaurant, with blue and golden neon lights and the best dumplings Hyejoo has ever eaten in her whole life.

The place is almost empty, except for an old couple sharing some spring rolls and the waiter, a young guy who looks like he hasn’t slept in a week. Hyejoo and her sister sit on the booth farthest from the door, where they can seek shelter from the cold air of December. It’s their usual spot—Minjoo says the neon lights make for good Instagram pictures and Hyejoo just doesn’t really care, because the food is good not matter where you sit.

Minjoo orders for both of them—she knows Hyejoo isn’t keen on talking to strangers, be it at school or at a restaurant—and waits until the waiter is nowhere to be seen to look back at Hyejoo.

“I wanted to tell you something,” Minjoo says, smiling awkwardly. Hyejoo can’t see it, but she hears the nervous tapping of her foot against the floor tiles. What’s wrong with this girl today? “I… I haven’t told mom and dad yet, and I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Ah. So this is what this is all about.

In all honestly, Hyejoo is a little relieved that this wasn’t Minjoo trying to corner her and coerce her into talking about herself. And she’s also kind of touched that her sister is putting so much trust into her, and wants to share this secret with her before anybody else.

“What’s wrong? Wait—oh my God.” She makes a dramatic pause. “You’re not pregnant, are you?” Hyejoo teases, noticing her sister seems a little tense. A bit of humor would do them both good. Plus, it’s not like that’s too far-fetched, knowing how popular her sister has always been.

“Don’t be stupid! Of course I’m not!” Minjoo says, seemingly outraged although she’s smiling from ear to ear. She playfully tries to hit Hyejoo’s arm across the table. “This kid…”

Hyejoo laughs. I mean, who doesn’t get a kick out of teasing their siblings? “Then what? You’re making me nervous here!”

Minjoo takes a deep breath, and Hyejoo thinks it feels oddly familiar—with roles reversed this time.

“I quit my job before winter break,” Minjoo says so quickly that all Hyejoo hears is _iquitmyjobbeforewinterbreak_ and has to take a few seconds to understand anything. When her brows raise in surprise, Minjoo continues, “and I don’t know how to tell mom and dad.”

Okay. This isn’t what Hyejoo was expecting _at all_. Minjoo always talks about her job with a certain pride in her voice that Hyejoo couldn’t help but be jealous of. It was a good job—it paid well and it gave Minjoo a pretty high position in the company, despite being pretty young. Her quitting doesn’t make any sense.

“What—why? I mean. _Why_?”

Minjoo sits back on her chair, shoulders dropping in frustration.

“Because—God. Hyejoo, you don’t even understand.” Minjoo wrinkles her nose; she always does that when she is trying to pretend she likes something she actually hates. The last time Hyejoo saw her do it was on her birthday, when their grandma bought Minjoo the most hideous skirt ever and she had to tell her she loved it so as not to make her upset. “I can’t stand it. I _hate_ this job. If I had stayed any longer, I would have probably lost my mind.”

It takes Hyejoo by surprise. Minjoo has always been the model daughter, the one their parents brag about to their friends—Hyejoo is thankful for that, because it takes the focus off herself—and the one who got perfect grades in school, got into the best university, dated the greatest boys and got the best job ever after graduating. And never in her life had it crossed her mind that any of those things could have made her _unhappy_.

“I’m so tired of pretending, Hyejoo.”

Well. That makes two of them, then.

Hyejoo reaches for her sister’s hand, who holds her eagerly, thankful. She obviously was nervous about what Hyejoo’s reaction might be. “Don’t worry. I totally get it. Thank you for telling me.”

“You’re the best,” Minjoo says, a smile of relief on her lips. “I was just… so stressed about this. I thought you’d hate me, or…”

“Hate you? For quitting you job?” Hyejoo laughs. “That makes me sound like a terrible sister…”

“No! It’s just—I didn’t want to disappoint you, y’know? You’re my baby sister and I want to make you proud.”

It warms Hyejoo’s heart, how earnest her sister sounds. Of course she’s scared of disappointing her parents, too, but the fact that she made sure to tell Hyejoo first because she didn’t want to feel like she was failing her… Even after all these years, Minjoo still is the best sister Hyejoo could have asked for.

“I’ll always be proud of you, no matter what,” Hyejoo says, squeezing her sister’s hand.

Moved by Minjoo’s confession, Hyejoo thinks that there are a lot of things she’s hidden from her sister, while she has been totally honest with her, even with such a sensitive issue for her. Minjoo is good, would never turn her back on Hyejoo, right?

Hyejoo doesn’t even think about it twice. She makes the decision.

Their waiter pops out from nowhere, balancing their orders in each of his hands. He places the food on the table and turns around without saying a word, his expression bored. Hyejoo watches as he walks back into the kitchen, leaving the place unattended.

Good. She definitely needs some privacy for what she’s going to do next.

“Actually,” she starts, the words escaping her lips quickly, before talking becomes suddenly hard, “there’s something I wanted to tell you as well.”

“Hmm? What is it?” Minjoo asks through a mouthful of noodles, to which Hyejoo responds making a face. The only thing her sister doesn’t excel at is at eating like a normal fucking human being.

Hyejoo looks around the restaurant, anxiety building up inside her. The waiter is still nowhere to be seen, and the rest of the booths are completely empty (Hyejoo supposes the elderly couple must have left somewhere between her conversation with Minjoo, as she didn’t even notice they were gone until now).

There’s no turning back now. This isn’t something that she can tell herself she’ll deal with another time, because Minjoo is sitting across the table, staring at her with curious eyes. Hyejoo clears her throat, mind buzzing with the hundreds of things she wants to say and the fear of what will happen once she says them. She feels her hands start to tremble—her whole body as well—and prays that Minjoo doesn’t notice.

Not that any of that matters anymore. She’s going to do it.

“You see,” Hyejoo starts, lowering her voice a little. Her eyes are focused on her food but move up to her sister, who blinks in confusion. With a deep breath, Hyejoo gets ready. She goes for it—the whole truth, for the first time. “I—I’m a lesbian.”

Just like that, she’s said it.

There’s a rush of euphoria inside her, a fire that burns but—unlike other times she’s felt it—doesn’t hurt. It makes her want to run a marathon, scream from the top of her lungs, until she’s out of breath. The knot in her chest doesn’t feel that heavy anymore, although the fear is still there, lurking. But this time, Hyejoo overcame it—she’s had the strength to fend it off, to make it retract back to where it belongs.

This time, Hyejoo fought her fear, and won.

It goes as soon as it comes. Her sudden happiness morphs into something more akin to pure horror when she notices—the restaurant is silent.

Minjoo stares at her, eyes wide open, and says nothing.

Then, she stands up, the movement so quick that it startles Hyejoo. Why is she standing up? Is she going to leave? Is she so disgusted by her own sister that she cannot bear sharing the same physical space as her? Does she hate Hyejoo? Does she…?

A pair of arms wrap themselves around Hyejoo. Something wet on her shoulder. The smell of Minjoo’s perfume—the one Hyejoo gave her as a Christmas present a couple of days ago—in her nose.

Minjoo is hugging her, a hug so tight Hyejoo has a hard time breathing.

“I…” she starts, but a sob interrupts her.

“I’m sorry, Hyejoo,” Minjoo says, looking up at her with eyes bright from the tears. “I’m _so_ sorry. What kind of sister am I?”

This is so confusing. Hyejoo still doesn’t know if this is a positive or negative reaction. It definitely isn’t the reaction she expected. What the hell does she mean by that? She’s a bad sister for letting her baby sister become a disgusting homosexual or…? Or what. Hyejoo doesn’t understand. Her brain is malfunctioning right now.

“W-what?”

Minjoo breaks the hug, scoots closer to her in the tiny seat of the booth. One of her hands moves to Hyejoo’s shoulder and the other takes a loose strand of her hair and tucks it behind her ear, although it goes back to its initial position quickly. The gesture is comforting—Hyejoo knows it well. Minjoo did that when Hyejoo was four and lost her favorite plush that she couldn’t sleep without; she did it when Hyejoo was eight and fell off her bike when learning how to ride, ending up with an ugly bruise on her knee; she did it when Hyejoo was twelve and failed an important test, but was too scared to tell her parents.

(She did it when Chaewon left, but Hyejoo doesn’t want to think of that.)

“Because,” Minjoo says, “you’ve probably been dealing with this on your own God knows how long. And you’re only telling me now, because you were probably scared to tell me… What kind of sister does that make me? I should have been there for you. Supporting you, having your back. I…”

“None of that matters,” Hyejoo cuts her off. Her sister doesn’t deserve to feel guilty for something that isn’t her fault. “I didn’t tell you because I wasn’t ready, but I am now. I just… I want your support. Now. If… If you’re okay with, y’know. All of this. With me.”

“You’re my sister and I love you,” Minjoo says with a kind smile. There’s determination in her eyes. “Thank you for telling me, Hyejoo. You can’t even imagine how proud I am of you.”

A soft pair of lips is pressed to her forehead. Hyejoo closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, feels like a little child again. Just for a second, she allows herself to bask in this peace, in this acceptance. This is what the love of her sister feels like: pride.

It only takes a few minutes before they go back to finishing their meals while complaining about university, Minjoo telling her a story of how she ended up stuck in a party with a group of exchange students from Russia without knowing a word of Russian. Hyejoo laughs wholeheartedly, with an easiness she hasn’t felt in years, and Minjoo laughs with her. They both joke and talk loudly and don’t care that the clients that walk into the restaurant stare at them weirdly.

They don’t understand it. Only Minjoo and her do.

Hyejoo is home.

* * *

They celebrate the New Year around TV, shouting and cheering when the clock finally hits the new day. Hyejoo feels the joy of her parents and her sister hugging her, jumping around the living room, just like they do every year. There’s high pitched yelling coming from the apartments next door, the phone starts ringing, and the sound of the fireworks outside their window drowns

If things were a little different, Hyejoo would be overwhelmed—by the sounds, the hugs, the happiness surrounding her. This year, however, _she_ is different. She’s the one yelling, wrapping her arms around her mom in the tightest of hugs, laughing until her stomach hurts.

Something inside her is different, she knows. Something has started to change for good.

A couple of hours later, when their parents have long been asleep, Hyejoo hears a knock on her door and sees Minjoo walk in with some plastic bags. They sit together on Hyejoo’s carpet and Minjoo takes out soju and beer, gives her a mischievous wink and they drink somaek and tell stories about university and Minjoo’s (old) job and Seoul until they both are a bit too drunk to stay awake. Minjoo tentatively asks questions about Hyejoo’s love life and she’s respectful, tries to understand her, doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. And Hyejoo is thankful for that.

Before going to sleep, Hyejoo checks her phone to send New Year’s greetings to all her friends and notices one text in particular. The timestamp says she received it at 00:01, barely after the clock struck midnight.

It’s from Chaewon.

**chaewon**

happy new year, hyejoo!

i hope you have an amazing year

i’m so happy we got to meet again

And then another text, received at 00:08.

tell your parents and minjoo i said hi!! hahaha

Hyejoo smiles, holds the phone tight against her chest, warmth spreading inside her. She sends an answer, although all she wants in that moment is to call Chaewon, tell her that she loves her, that she always has. Maybe that’s something she should leave for another time—and for her sober self.

Perhaps it’s the excitement of the new year that has just started or just the somaek talking, but Hyejoo allows herself to believe. To hope. To go to sleep and fall asleep thinking that, maybe, Chaewon has been thinking about her, too.

* * *

All the weather reports are saying that there’s a snowstorm coming on the first week of the new year. Not that Hyejoo cares, anyway. Whether the sun is shining or rain is pouring, Hyejoo wouldn’t skip hanging out with Yerim and Yeojin for anything in the world.

It’s been quite some time since they last saw each other at the surprise birthday party, as Yerim had to catch a flight overseas only a couple of days after that, and Yeojin was too busy with her last year of high school to make time to visit Hyejoo in Seoul.

And Hyejoo… Well, she was busy having an existential crisis.

The good thing about being best friends is that the three of them can spend months apart, barely interacting, and nothing will have changed when they meet again. Things aren’t different this time, although Hyejoo feels as if everything around them—including themselves—has changed.

They meet at Yerim’s place, spend a good half an hour there, talking with her about how life has been treating them. Hyejoo feels a small sting of guilt when she shrugs and says nothing special has happened in her life, because that’s pretty far from the truth. (But Yerim’s mom is too nice—Hyejoo wouldn’t want to make her sad talking about all her miserable moments in the past months.)

A few hours later, the three of them are making their way back home. Yerim struggles balancing a cup of hot chocolate and one too many shopping bags (because she got a little carried away spending her Christmas money), while Yeojin rambles about school and about how boring everything is without Hyejoo and Yerim around. Hyejoo has to hold herself from smiling; Yeojin may act tough, but deep down she’s the sweetest kid in the world.

The walk past a very familiar building—the one Yeojin wanted to go ghost hunting at when they were younger. The one they didn’t explore the day Hyejoo realized she had feelings for Chaewon. Hyejoo can’t help but stare at it with a certain feeling of nostalgia, the memories of that particular summer day flooding her mind.

The haunted (according to Yeojin) place had been demolished a couple of years ago, being turned later into a small apartment building with an Italian restaurant on the first floor. The memory of her friends and her trying to sneak there, trying to notice any paranormal activity, makes Hyejoo’s lips curl into a small smile. It seems so distant now, like it wasn’t something that had actually happened to her.

Yeojin seems to notice Hyejoo staring.

“Remember when we came ghost hunting here?” she asks, pointing to the building with her thumb.

“Yeah!” Yerim nods enthusiastically, her face lighting up. “Though we didn’t do any actual ghost hunting.”

Hyejoo chuckles. “When have we done any actual ghost hunting, if I may ask?”

Turning around to face Hyejoo, Yeojin lets out an offended gasp. Hyejoo tries to hold back laughter, but the raw outrage on her friend’s face is making it a little harder than usual. Yeojin has always taking their ghost hunting endeavors very seriously.

“Excuse me? Have you forgotten our camping trip? You know, when we literally caught a ghost _on camera_!?”

“Actually,” Yerim says, pensive, “wasn’t that your mom photobombing?”

Yeojin’s face goes a little red, making both Hyejoo and Yerim laugh. Even though she’s definitely grown a lot in the past few months, she’s still Yeojin. And she’ll always be their little baby.

“Maybe that’s what the ghost wanted you to believe,” Yeojin says through gritted teeth, and Hyejoo cannot deny it—she kind of has a point.

They continue walking, past the new building, past the familiar cafés and stores around the area, wandering without really paying attention to where they’re going. None of them seems to actually want to go home: when they walk by their bus stop, they all deliberately ignore it.

Hyejoo steals a sip of Yerim’s chocolate—Yerim pouts but doesn’t stop her—and wraps an arm around Yeojin’s shoulder.

“Looking back, I can’t believe we really thought we were the shit with our ghost hunting,” she says, and Yeojin glowers at her. She knows Hyejoo is joking, though. “We were just a bunch of nerds sneaking into abandoned places. Not even during the night! I don’t even know how we never got caught.”

“We were _that_ good,” Yeojin says smugly.

“That’s right!” Yerim grins, a soft chuckle leaving her lips. Her smile makes the gloomy day seem a little bit brighter. “We were amazing, but people didn’t understand it.”

“I don’t care what anyone says,” Yeojin says, arms crossed over her chest, her tone serious. “Ghost hunting _is_ cool.”

“It’s weird, though,” Yerim points out, making a face. She doesn’t sound disapproving (after all, she always the first to follow Yeojin in whatever crazy adventure she plans). The words feel foreign, like she’s echoing something that she has heard, but never said before; like she’s repeating someone else’s words.

Hyejoo stares at her own feet, with memories of their childhood coming and going. She understands where Yerim’s words come from—a lot of kids made fun of them because of their _weird_ hobbies. Back in the day, Hyejoo didn’t care about others teasing her for that: at least it meant they didn’t find anything else about her to make fun of. Kids can be crueler than any adult, and Hyejoo cannot imagine just how bad things could have gotten if anyone had suspected—let alone found out—that she was into girls.

“It’s not weird, it’s just _different_ ,” Yeojin shrugs, surprisingly calm. Talking about this topic usually made Yeojin lose her temper—she couldn’t stand it when people made fun of others for stupid things like this. “And different can still be cool. It doesn’t mean bad.”

Yerim chews on her words, staring at the dark sky over their heads, looking for something to say. The cold condenses her breath, little white clouds appearing every time she breathes out. Hyejoo watches, mesmerized, as Yeojin’s words echo in her mind, first low, almost inaudible, then so loud they drown every other noise around her.

_It doesn’t mean bad._

And just like that, everything suddenly falls into place. Every thought, every feeling inside Hyejoo that never seemed to fit—everything finds its place, just where it needs to be. Yeojin’s words move like a whirlwind in Hyejoo. But instead of causing havoc, they clear the dark clouds, the lurking shadows, and suddenly all there is inside her is clarity.

_It doesn’t mean bad_. It’s almost stupid, how a few simple words, said by the right person in the right moment, can be so cathartic for Hyejoo.

She has spent most of her life feeling bad, guilty. Like she was doing something evil—when she looked at Yerim one day when they were eight and though she was prettier than any boy could ever be; when she was thirteen and she ran away from a classmate who tried to ask her on a date; when she looked at Chaewon that day at the end of the summer and knew she was in _deep_ , and there was no running away from that.

Why should she feel bad? There’s no evil in wanting. There should be no guilt in loving.

Inside her, Hyejoo feels light, like she could start flying at any given second. A very similar feeling like the one she had when she talked that one time with Jinsol and Jungeun, but amplified to its maximum. And where there once was shame, and guilt, and fear, and anger… There’s nothing else anymore.

She doesn’t feel any of those things.

All she can feel is an impulse, like wind pulling her out of the ground, giving her the courage to find the words and speak up.

“Liking… Liking girls instead of boys,” she manages, the words burning in her throat as she lets them out, “is—it’s cool, right?”

Silence settles between them—with Yerim and Yeojin around, that usually never happens—and Hyejoo _almost_ regrets saying anything at all. Her whole body starts to shake, but she doesn’t let the fear overpower her this time. Yeojin’s and Yerim’s stares piercing through her like poisonous arrows, and she stares back at them.

They are her best friends in the whole world. If they’re going to love her, they need to do it for who she is. For who she _really_ is.

Yeojin, shoulders still under Hyejoo’s arm, stares up at her.

Her eyes disappear into crescents. A smile.

“It’s cool. Of course it’s cool.”

Hyejoo looks back at her and sees Yeojin—and for a second, she doesn’t look like Yeojin at all. Her glare is fixed on Hyejoo so intently, so serious, so unlike her. It feels like she has grown ten years in a second, when she looks at Hyejoo that way.

Yeojin is no longer a kid, Hyejoo realizes.

“It’s cool,” she repeats. “It’s really cool, Hyejoo.”

“Yes!” Yerim speaks, and reaches to hold one of Hyejoo’s hands. Even if her arms are still too busy with bags, she doesn’t let it stop her. “It’s cool. The coolest.”

When Yerim smiles at her, bright and warm and honest, it finally starts to sink in—it’s cool. It really is. Liking girls is cool. It’s not bad, doesn’t mean she’s evil. It doesn’t make her a bad person. Yerim and Yeojin don’t hate her for it, because it’s _cool_.

Yeojin’s arms make her way around Hyejoo’s waist, stands on her tippy-toes and plants a soft kiss on her temple. When they were kids, Hyejoo would do the same whenever Yeojin got hurt, whether it was a gash, or a scraped knee after a fall, or just her feeling bad. The gesture is sweet, because Yeojin is not usually the affectionate type. But Yeojin, like Hyejoo, has also grown a lot in the past few months.

There’s this feeling again—the acceptance. The loving, regardless everything.

Hyejoo closes her eyes for a moment, makes sure to remember it forever.

Her friends hold her in silence, careful but welcoming, like they always have been.

Yeojin smirks, her smile back to playful and mischievous. “Well,” she says solemnly, “it’s cool, unless you like Yerim. Because you’d have _terrible_ taste in girls.”

“Hey!” Jumping to her feet, Yerim gasps, offended. She’s smiling, too. “Say that to my face, you little gremlin!”

And then they start chasing each other around the room, running around Hyejoo, screaming and yelling and giggling. They always the do that. Nothing has changed, everything is still the same. Yerim, Yeojin, Hyejoo—they are still the same they were ten years ago, ten minutes ago.

Hyejoo starts laughing. There are tears threatening to spill from her eyes, barely clinging to her eyelashes, but it doesn’t matter—for the first time in a long while, she feels like crying of laughter, of joy, of utter happiness. For the first time, there’s nothing to drown her, to bring her back to that dark place. When she breathes in, fresh air fills her lungs and she lets it out with laughter.

Inside her, a flower begins to bloom.

* * *

Hyejoo is eighteen years old when she realizes that she isn’t quite like the rest of the world.

And she understands it at last: there’s absolutely nothing wrong with that.

* * *

When she goes back to Seoul after winter break, Hyejoo has never felt so brave. And, at the same time, she has never been so scared in her whole life. A weight has been lifted off her shoulders—instead of a burden, pressing down her back and whispering dangerous things in her ear, there’s nothing holding her back now. She has gathered momentum, and can’t stop—doesn’t want to stop—moving forward.

She doesn’t know where she’s heading to, but she knows she’s not going back. Maybe the journey is a little bit stressing, and a little bit terrifying, but whatever the destination is, it will have been worth it.

So she keeps going. Small steps at first. And then, bigger.

She goes, and goes, and goes.

* * *

It’s crazy, how Hyejoo cannot stop herself anymore.

It begins when she’s sitting on her couch, watching a movie with Hyunjin, since winter break has just ended and they aren’t particularly busy with university. Heejin and Chaewon are out with some friends from class.

As usual, Hyunjin is the one who picked the movie—a cute and somehow sad romcom about to girls in a conversion camp who end up falling in love. Any other time, Hyejoo wouldn’t have felt particularly happy about Hyunjin’s choice. The idea of giving others have the chance to bring up _the-lesbian-thing_ in front of her made her feel terribly uncomfortable, almost to the point of anxiety.

However, things are different now: she does not shift uncomfortably on the couch like she used to do. She does not start shaking when she hears the word ‘lesbian’ repeated over and over. She does not look away when the main characters hold hands tentatively. She does not excuse herself to go to the bathroom just before the main characters finally share their first kiss.

Instead, she says, “God, I want a girlfriend _so bad_.”

The movie keeps playing, but the world around her stops for a second.

Hyunjin glances at her, and grins.

“Girl, me too,” Hyunjin says dramatically, and goes back to watching the movie.

It continues. On and on.

Hyejoo can’t stop.

Days go by, weeks go by, and Hyejoo keeps coming out.

To Jiwoo, who smiles so wide it’s almost painful to watch, and treats Hyejoo to lunch.

To Vivi and Haseul, who hug her tight, tell her that no matter what happens, she’ll always have a home with them. (Hyejoo tears up a little when she hears them, but it’s not like anyone needs to know.)

To Heejin, who tells her she’s so proud of her, so earnest that Hyejoo _knows_. Heejin _is_ proud. And to be honest, so is Hyejoo.

To Jinsol and Jungeun—and this time, she’s not crying nor scared.

If she’d been told a few months ago that she’d now be out to all her friends, Hyejoo wouldn’t have believed it. She wouldn’t have believed it, because at that time she did not have it in her—the courage, the need to share it with the people she loves.

Now, the words are almost begging to be said, to be shared with the world. And every time she comes out, she’s still frightened, but a little less than the time before.

A little bit prouder, too.

* * *

One of the scariest parts of it all is telling Chaeryeong. After all, she knew the rest of her friends were into girls, so it’d be the first time coming out to someone who’s not _like her_. Someone who could react in all the wrong ways. Someone Hyejoo could lose after coming out.

Despite all of that, she still resolves to do it.

They’re on campus when it happens, sitting on a bench under a tree to hide from the winter sun. They have almost an hour until their next class starts, and they intended to catch up with some of their work but ended up hanging out outside, to enjoy the surprisingly nice weather.

“Hey.” Chaeryeong nudges Hyejoo’s side softly. She’s sipping on her third iced coffee of the day (which Hyejoo thinks is kind of worrying, but she doesn’t judge). “Don’t know if you’ve noticed, but that guy has been staring at you for a while now. It’s getting sad at this point.”

The guy in question is sitting alone on the bench across them, right in front of Hyejoo. A book is open on his lap, although he’s clearly not reading. When Hyejoo takes her eyes off her phone and looks back at him, he adverts his gaze, cheeks getting slightly red. If Hyejoo were into boys in any way, she would have probably found that cute—she’s not really used to making others flustered. When she notices, Chaeryeong giggles and nudges Hyejoo again, a smirk creeping up on her lips.

“If you look at him like that, you’ll scare him off,” she says, half playful, half serious.

Hyejoo shrugs and goes back to her phone. “It’s okay. He wouldn’t have stood a chance, anyway.”

“Ouch. Not your type?” Chaeryeong asks, shamelessly checking the guy out. “I mean, he’s kind of okay. Nice haircut. Not really feeling his outfit, though.”

Hyejoo takes a deep breath. Closes her eyes for a second, gathering all her courage. She’s done this before, but there has never been this danger—the danger of messing up a friendship. A friendship she cherishes, she wants to protect. But this is how it’s going to work for the rest of her life: she’s going to meet people, she’s going to make new friends, and they’re going to eventually know. And if they don’t accept her for who she is… Well, maybe she doesn’t need that kind of people in her life.

“Yeah, definitely not my type,” she says, categorical. Chaeryeong raises a brow, waiting for Hyejoo to explain herself. So she does. “Never been into, you know… Guys.”

Ah. There it is.

Hyejoo avoids using _the_ word, just in case anyone decides to eavesdrop. The meaning of what she says, however, is very clear. She can see it in the way Chaeryeong’s expression shifts the slightest—her brows go up, her lips curl into a round, surprised shape.

And then—a nod. An arm around her shoulder, a chuckle.

“Ah! You should have told me earlier!” Chaeryeong says. Hyejoo studies her expression, looking for a clue that gives it all away—something that will tell her that her friend is disgusted, pretending that everything is okay when it’s actually not. But Chaeryeong’s smile is the same. The air around them is still the same, too. “I guess I never mentioned it, but… Did you know my sister has a girlfriend? She’s super cool. From Japan. We should totally try to get you a Japanese girlfriend.”

“At this point,” Hyejoo starts solemnly, “I don’t think I can be picky.”

They both burst into laughter. The giddiness inside Hyejoo turns into loud chuckles, and she throws her head back, slapping her friend’s arm playfully. Chaeryeong airy giggles become increasingly louder, and people around them give them disapproving looks, shaking their heads when they walk past them.

Not that Hyejoo cares, anyway.

The world around her keeps moving, and so does she.

* * *

One of Hyejoo’s New Year’s resolutions is to go on a real date with a girl, and she that’s exactly what she does.

After coming out to Chaeryeong, her friend had insisted on introducing Hyejoo to someone. No, scratch that. Not just someone—a _girl_. Apparently, a friend of Chaeryeong’s older sister had seen them around and told her that Hyejoo caught her eye, which was both embarrassing and flattering. Never in her life had Hyejoo entertained the idea of someone being interested in _her_. It was kind of crazy, considering Hyejoo had just assumed that she would probably end up alone because she was just straight up unlikeable.

Not wanting to miss this chance, Hyejoo soon decides to ask Chaeryeong to get her a date with this girl.

And that’s how Hyejoo finds herself in her room, staring at her reflection in the small mirror of her room like she’s watching a stranger.

She’s supposed to do her makeup, wear something nice. She’s supposed to have a date in less than an hour, and it feels like she’s watching herself from outside.

Sooyoung always says that the key to dating is being confident. If you’re confident, if you believe in yourself, the other person will see it—and she will like it. Sooyoung also says that there are many ways to build your confidence in a date: dressing in something nice, getting your makeup done, meet up in a place you’re familiar with.

Hyejoo promised she would try all of that. And even though she knows she’s dressed to kill, and she’s meeting her date at a café she knows and likes, she still feels as if she’s going to have a heart attack in a second.

(Maybe Sooyoung’s tips only work when you’re Sooyoung. Who would have thought?)

Perhaps if she had listened to Sooyoung when she tried to teach her how to do her own makeup she wouldn’t be in this situation.

“I hate my life,” Hyejoo groans, as she leans closer to the mirror. This is going to be her third—and definitely last—attempt at eyeliner. If she fails _again_ , her date will have to deal with her bare face.

With the eyeliner dangerously close to her face, Hyejoo is interrupted by soft knocks on her door. She turns around, slightly confused, because for a moment she had forgotten that Chaewon was at home, locked in her bedroom and catching up with schoolwork.

They haven’t talked much lately, not since they came back after winter break. Things between them haven’t really changed, but Hyejoo can feel that the air around them have shifted slightly—it isn’t quite like it was before their break. She still cannot pinpoint what has exactly changed: is it her, was it Chaewon, or both of them?

“Come in,” Hyejoo says after an awkwardly long pause.

Chaewon’s blonde head peeks from behind the door, her big eyes looking more tired than usual. Hyejoo feels bad for not having checked on her lately, although she knows there’s a reason for it—after all, she has been doing her best to get over Chaewon for the past month.

The results of that: Hyejoo almost cancelling her date three times because Chaewon wanted to play Mario Kart with someone.

And judging by the way her heart starts hammering against her ribs when she sees Chaewon walk into her room, she still has some work to do.

“Can we…” Chaewon starts, then stops. She clears her throat before talking again. “Can we talk?”

Hyejoo glances at her phone, checking the time. She’s supposed to meet her date in 45 minutes, although she had planned to arrive there before their scheduled time so she had time to calm down and get used to her surroundings.

“Sure,” she says as she gets up from her chair, finally deciding to ditch the eyeliner. She will lose a lot of time—time that she doesn’t have—doing her makeup and talking to Chaewon. Hyejoo curses her inability to multitask around the blonde.

“You look pretty,” Chaewon mumbles out of the blue, and Hyejoo has to make an effort not to faint right there. Where the hell did that come from?

“I—uh, wow. Thanks,” Hyejoo replies awkwardly, looking everywhere around her as a way to avoid Chaewon’s eyes. She can feel the blush creeping up her neck, slowly setting on her cheeks and ears. “I, um… I actually have a date. So I decided to, you know. Dress nice and all that.”

And it’s true. She’s wearing her favourite pair of skinny jeans, dark and ripped like the ones you see on magazines, and a cropped top she stole from Sooyoung, so she knows it looks great. Pretty simple, but at least it’s better than her usual hoodies and it makes her feel good about herself.

“A date?”

For a split second, Chaewon’s face crumples. Hyejoo is almost sure that she imagines it, because then Chaewon is suddenly grinning at her, her smile wide and toothy. However, there’s a hint of something in it, something that Hyejoo can’t quite identify—but it’s not a positive emotion, she knows.

“Yeah. It was Chaeryeong’s idea, to be honest,” Hyejoo says. She knows the doesn’t owe Chaewon any explanation, and yet she can’t stop herself from rambling like an idiot. “It’s probably going to be a mess, though. I can’t do my makeup and I can’t even hold a conversation…”

The afternoon is rolling around and the winter sunshine creeps inside Hyejoo’s room, the goldens and yellows falling on Chaewon. She looks like a painting, like she belongs in a museum, even with her hair a bit messy and dark circles under her eyes.

(If she’s honest with herself, Hyejoo knows that if her date ends up being a mess it’d probably be because there’s only one person in this world who makes her think of art when she looks at her, and even though she hasn’t met her yet, she knows it’s not the person she’s going on a date with.)

“I’ll do it.”

Hyejoo blinks, confused.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Your makeup,” Chaewon says. “I’ll do it. I’ve practised hundreds of times with Jinsol.”

“Uh.” Hyejoo looks around the room, feeling the awkwardness settle around them as seconds go by without her saying anything else. Chaewon will probably think she’s dumb. “I mean—sure,” she finally says, cheeks warmer than they should be.

Chaewon’s expression lights up, lips curled into her signature heart-shaped smile. She analyses Hyejoo’s small collection of makeup brushes and her only colour palette, and Hyejoo adds an entry on her list of Chaewon Facts: apparently, she’s into makeup. Yet another thing Hyejoo seems to have missed in the past few years. At this point, it barely even bothers her anymore.

“Close your eyes.”

“Huh?”

Hyejoo looks up and she has to stop herself from jerking away, because—Chaewon is dangerously close. The last time their faces were this close was the day Hyejoo got drunk and… Well. She doesn’t want to remember how much she wanted to kiss Chaewon that night. Especially not before a _date_.

“I need you to close your eyes,” Chaewon says with a low chuckle.

“Sure,” Hyejoo mumbles lamely, and obliges.

Yeah, this is definitely easier with her eyes closed.

Or at least it is, until Chaewon places a hand on her face, the tips of her fingers on Hyejoo’s jaw. It’s delicate, but Hyejoo has to focus all her attention on _not focusing_ on Chaewon, and how she’s humming a familiar song as she works on the makeup with surprising confidence. Hyejoo prays that she doesn’t feel her pulse hammering right under her ear, just where Chaewon’s skin burns against hers.

The only sound in the room is Chaewon singing under her breath and the traffic outside, muffled by the closed window. Hyejoo is overwhelmed by Chaewon’s closeness, her fists clenched so tight her knuckles match the white of the walls. If she tries hard enough, she can pretend that Chaewon touching her doesn’t bother her.

A minute goes by, and then another, until Hyejoo is pretty sure the only thing she can feel is Chaewon’s hand on her face now. She frowns the slightest. Is there anything wrong…?

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Hmm?” Chaewon sounds confused for a moment. “Oh! Yeah, I’m done. What do you think?”

She hands Hyejoo the tiny mirror, her gaze avoiding Hyejoo.

Usually, when she looks at herself in the mirror, Hyejoo feels as if she was watching a blurry picture. She can see her features individually (her dark eyes; her cheeks, too chubby for her taste; her mouth, which she has never quite liked), but when she looks at them together, she can’t really see anything. It’s almost like looking at a picture of someone you don’t know.

When she looks in the mirror now, however, it’s different. Hyejoo can’t even recognise herself at first, even if her makeup isn’t particularly bold—Chaewon only did her eyeliner, added some faint blush and eyeshadow here and there, and painted her lips a dark shade of red, which matches surprisingly well with Hyejoo’s pale skin. She has to admit it, though: she looks good.

“Beautiful,” Chaewon says, and Hyejoo can see her proud smile through the mirror. The word echoes in her mind, as she basks in the idea that Chaewon said it about her and only her: _beautiful beautiful beautiful_.

Hyejoo smiles as well, content spreading inside her.

She should tell Chaewon that she’s beautiful, too.

But then she remembers—her date! Hell, she’s probably going to be late now.

“Shit,” she says, jumping from her seat in a hurry. When she checks her phone, she starts to panic a bit—only 15 minutes left until her date now. How did time go by so fast…? “Sorry, I have to go or I won’t make it. Can it wait?”

“Wait?” Chaewon asks, brows furrowed. She’s staring weirdly at Hyejoo, but there’s no time to think about that now.

“The thing you wanted to talk about. Is it important?”

“Oh.” Chaewon’s eyes move down, focusing on Hyejoo’s ugly carpet. “Yeah. Don’t worry. It was nothing.”

“Cool,” Hyejoo says, grabbing her leather jacket (she promised Chaeryeong she would wear it) and her purse. “I’ll see you later, then?”

Chaewon doesn’t smile.

“Of course. Have fun, Hyejoo.”

* * *

Her date’s name is Yuri, and the first thing she does when she sees Hyejoo walk in is drop her phone.

The second thing she does is introduce herself, smiling sheepishly at Hyejoo with cheeks blushing a faint pink.

“I’m so sorry,” she says. Her voice is clear and pretty, and Hyejoo thinks she would like to hear it more. “It’s just—you are… You look p-pretty. Sorry. I—I’m kinda nervous.”

“That makes two of us, then.” Hyejoo grins at her, and she’s surprised to notice how confident she sounds. Her palms are sweating in her pockets, but something stronger than nervousness is pushing her to talk.

Once they have their orders, they sit on a table far from the door, and take a few moments to warm to each other. And it’s very nice, how they fall into conversation easily. Hyejoo’s initial confidence begins to falter very soon, but Yuri is quick to take the lead in the conversation. Her awkwardness is fast gone, and Hyejoo suddenly finds herself laughing loudly at Yuri’s anecdotes and even sharing her own without any hesitation.

There’s something about Yuri that makes Hyejoo want to get to know her better. It’s the way everything she says sounds like it’s being said through a smile, the way she asks questions about Hyejoo without pushing, but with honest interest.

And it’s unbelievable, but everything goes well.

Despite her anxiety and fears, Hyejoo’s first ever date with a girl goes _well_.

And—okay, maybe Hyejoo doesn’t have feelings for this girl yet. Maybe there’s not even potential for that, but she and Yuri have a lot of fun. There’s an easiness between them that Hyejoo wouldn’t have expected in a million years. They spend hours talking until the café closes, then they walk home together and there isn’t a single moment when things become awkward, or when Hyejoo feels like being swallowed by the ground.

And most importantly, Hyejoo doesn’t feel scared.

When their hands brush as they make their way to the subway station, Hyejoo doesn’t pull away. She lets them be, enjoys the thrill of feeling someone’s fingers against hers.

When they say goodbye and Yuri looks at her, her bright eyes avoiding Hyejoo’s gaze, it’s Hyejoo who goes for the hug. And Yuri’s shoulders relax when she does, so Hyejoo knows she hasn’t fucked up.

When Yuri asks for a second date, Hyejoo doesn’t hesitate to say yes.

* * *

It's pretty late—way later than Hyejoo had expected—when she finally gets home, her whole body buzzing with giddiness. However, when Hyejoo quietly opens the door of her apartment, she notices that the lights are still on.

Chaewon gets up with a jump when she sees Hyejoo walk in, cheeks slightly pink and looking like she just woke up. The clock on the wall indicates it’s almost 12AM, on a _weekday_. As far as Hyejoo knows, Chaewon should probably be asleep by now (because, unlike Hyejoo, she has a normal sleeping schedule. Or at least she used to do.)

“I’m sorry,” Hyejoo says, closing the door behind her and kicking off her shoes. “Didn’t expect you to be sleeping here.”

To be honest, she assumed Chaewon would be locked in her room watching Oh My Girl MVs until she passed out. That’s her usual routine on those Thursdays she doesn’t have any schoolwork to work on. Yet there she is, standing awkwardly in front of Hyejoo, hands fidgeting with the hem of her pyjama shirt.

“Oh, no, I wasn’t sleeping,” Chaewon says, shaking her head. Her voice sounds so tired. “I was—um, watching TV.”

They both turn their heads to their television. It is off. The remote control isn’t even on the couch—it’s next to her Nintendo Switch, as it always is when nobody is using it. Hyejoo frowns, and wants to ask what the hell is going on, but she doesn’t.

Chaewon’s expression… There’s something off about it.

“How was your date?” The older girl asks, smiling with her lips but not her eyes.

“Fine! Had a lot of fun, actually. It went way better than expected,” Hyejoo says honestly, a tickling feeling inside her when she remembers how organic things with Yuri felt.

“That’s great,” Chaewon says rather coldly. “Well. Guess I’m going to bed now.”

This isn’t right, Hyejoo thinks. So she takes two long steps, her hand reaching for Chaewon’s to stop her from hiding back into her bedroom, away from Hyejoo.

Not for the first time in her life, Chaewon is trying to run away from her, Hyejoo notices.

This time, however, she’s not going to let her go so easily.

“Are you free tomorrow?” Hyejoo asks, the same way she asked Yuri whether she was free next Tuesday. It makes her cheeks warm up, but she doesn’t let it stop her. Not now.

Chaewon’s response isn’t immediate. Her eyes scan Hyejoo’s face, her jaw tenser than usual. Then, her expression eases into the faintest of smiles, her frown relaxing, her hand suddenly tightening around Hyejoo’s.

“Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

It’s a bit cruel, but when she looks at her, Hyejoo forgets about every other girl in the world, Yuri included.

Only Chaewon can smile like that.

* * *

What starts as Hyejoo trying to stop Chaewon from distancing herself from her _again_ ends up as Hyejoo and Chaewon not being able to go two days without doing something together. Whether it is eating out, playing videogames together until Hyejoo gets tired of pretending to lose, watching reruns of dramas with a bottle of soju… It doesn’t matter. What matters is that—for some reason that Hyejoo still cannot quite understand—they’re closer than ever. Closer than they were before winter break, closer than they were when Hyejoo started seeing Yuri.

That’s where the problem lies.

This—their newfound closeness—feels a lot like _dating_.

Well. Correction: it feels a lot like what Hyejoo imagines dating Chaewon is like. Which isn’t really different from being friends, except there’s an intimacy between them that didn’t exist before. Not an intimacy that includes kissing—or anything beyond holding hands, which they have basically done since the day they met—but an intimacy that’s about how they understand each other now.

And it’d be amazing. It’d be the craziest thing that has ever happened to Hyejoo, having this little spark of hope inside her (a hope that _is_ real, that can actually turn into something real one day). Maybe it’d be the little push Hyejoo needs to finally tell Chaewon how she feels, if it wasn’t for the fact that she’s supposed to get over Chaewon, not fall even more for her.

Yuri helps, she really does. Obviously, Hyejoo doesn’t tell her about Chaewon because—well, telling the person you’re starting to date that you’ve been in love with someone else for months (or maybe your whole life) doesn’t sound like the best of ideas.

Their “thing”, whatever it is, isn’t even official. They’re just friends who have kissed once or twice—and then laughed shyly about it—so it’s not like they’re having this wild affair (although Sooyoung acts like they are whenever Hyejoo so much as mentions Yuri, but that’s just Sooyoung being annoying).

But if Hyejoo had feelings for this girl, she should have noticed by now.

She also shouldn’t feel like she’s somehow doing something wrong whenever she goes out with Chaewon instead of Yuri, or the other way around. If she isn’t dating any of them, she isn’t cheating.

So after a month of sort of dating, Hyejoo knows her relationship with Yuri will never work out.

They understand each other well, and they have fun together. And Hyejoo is happy to learn that there really can be someone out there who can be interested in her in the romantic sense of the word, but that’s just all there is between them.

Yuri must have noticed as well, because she’s the one that suggest they break up.

“I really like you,” she tells Hyejoo, and there’s sadness in her voice. She’s truly sorry that they couldn’t fall for each other, Hyejoo knows. “But in all honesty, I think we’re better off as friends.”

Hyejoo nods in agreement, and that’s how she ends her first relationship with a girl.

She goes home feeling completely different, smiling to herself. She’s glad to keep Yuri as a friend, but there’s something even more important that she has now, blooming inside her body. A confidence that’s starting to grow strong, a feeling that cannot be washed away by fear anymore.

There’s a girl waiting for her at home, a girl that Hyejoo loves, she knows it.

A girl who cares so much about her, who’s been her friend longer than any other person she has met.

A girl who, Hyejoo allows herself to think, might love her back.

There’s also a question:

If she knows all of this, why does she keep making things so hard on herself?

* * *

A few days after her breakup, Hyejoo lies on her bed, staring at the ceiling and listening to music that she knows Jiwoo would deem “too sad”. Even if she isn’t particularly heartbroken about it, it's her first breakup. She gets to be a little dramatic.

Soft knocks interrupt her silent staring at the ceiling and Chaewon enters the room with timid steps. Hyejoo doesn’t miss the fact that she looks prettier than usual, wearing a lavender sweater that Hyejoo had bought her as a late Christmas present. A faint warmth on her cheeks makes her realize she’s blushing.

“Are you busy?” Chaewon asks. Her eyes and her tone are serious, and Hyejoo gets a little nervous. Is there anything wrong…?

“Um, no, not really,” she says, fidgeting. “What’s wrong?”

“I want to talk to you. It’s important.”

Alright. _That_ is worrying.

Hyejoo can feel her palms start sweating, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t curious about all of this. She has never seen Chaewon like this—her jaw tense, the determination in her eyes, but also the subtle trembling of her words when she speaks.

“Sure. Just tell me.”

Chaewon shakes her head.

“Not here. We’re leaving.”

She holds her hand out for Hyejoo.

And there hasn’t been a single time in Hyejoo’s life where she has said no to holding Chaewon. She’s not going to start now, right?

* * *

They drive around town, with Chaewon focusing on the road in a way Hyejoo hasn’t seen before. She’s still a bit confused about why they’re going out so late, on a weekday, and why the hell does Chaewon have Haseul’s car ( _again_ ). But deep inside she knows asking questions would only probably make things worse, and Chaewon already looks a little too tense for her taste.

They park near one of the tallest apartment buildings Hyejoo has ever seen, and her jaw almost drops to the floor when Chaewon opens the door that leads to the hallway as if she had been living there her whole life. This all feels surreal. Hyejoo doesn’t understand a single thing. She might as well be dreaming.

“Heejin’s cousin lives here,” Chaewon explains before Hyejoo can ask any question. “She let me borrow the keys.”

Hyejoo nods silently and follows Chaewon into the elevator. She still isn’t sure this isn’t a dream.

When they finally reach their destination—the last floor—Chaewon tells her to close her eyes. Hyejoo wants to protest, but Chaewon holds her hand and she can’t fight back anymore.

With her eyes closed, Hyejoo allows the older girl to lead the way. And if she walks a bit too slow, claiming it’s because she can’t see anything, just so she can have Chaewon hold her hand for a little longer… Well. Nobody needs to know.

Hyejoo feels a rush of cold air when they stop walking.

“You can open them now,” Chaewon says.

Hyejoo opens her eyes, and—

“Oh,” she whispers a tad stupidly, because she can’t find anything else to say.

The city stands beneath them like an ocean of bright lights and infinite colours. All the way up there, it seems like the world around them is a painting they’re watching in a museum. They’re too far away from the noises and the crowds—up there, all there’s left from Seoul is the beauty.

Above them, the full moon hovers surrounded by the darkness of the night sky, a single light surrounded by black velvet. The sky is almost cloudless, and maybe it’s because they are so high above the city, but Hyejoo feels a little dizzy—the lights and the height make her feels in a daze. Still, it feels this night sky and the one she has always known are entirely different skies.

She stretches her hand up to the sky and lets the soft twinkle of the moon play around her fingers, fascinated. Next to her, Chaewon watches her silently, her expression unreadable. Hyejoo noticed that something was off in the car, but she can now see just how tense Chaewon seems to be.

Hyejoo can’t help but smile, a fluttery feeling on her chest. She gets to share this sky with Chaewon.

“I wanted to apologize,” Chaewon suddenly says, staring at her feet, looking on the verge of tears.

Hyejoo frowns in confusion.

“What for?” By pure instinct, Hyejoo’s hand reaches for Chaewon’s, who initially jerks away in response. Seeing Hyejoo’s displeased expression, however, she lets the younger girl wrap her fingers around her hand.

“About…” There’s a slight pause. And then Chaewon looks at her straight in the eye: “About the mail you wrote me.”

Oh. She means The Mail. (In Hyejoo’s mind, it’s always capitalized.) Hyejoo feels a small sting of disappointment when she realizes what Chaewon is talking about. That little, hopeful part of her had expected something entirely different, especially considering how they drove all the way across town for this. But if this is what Chaewon wants, she can have it.

“Oh, that,” Hyejoo says, and lets out an awkward chuckle. “It’s okay, it was a really long time ago…”

Chaewon shakes her head.

“No, you don’t understand. That mail—it made me realize so many things, and I…” She interrupts herself, obviously overwhelmed. Hyejoo still doesn’t understand where this is going—after all, it really was a long time ago. Does Chaewon think she holds some kind of grudge just because she didn’t answer a mail four years ago? “I read it every day after you sent it. Every day. And I—I tried to reply, I swear, but…” She sounds almost disgusted with herself. “I was so scared.”

“Scared?” Hyejoo asks, although there’s something about Chaewon’s voice that tells her where this is going. She can sense the urgency, the honest fear in the way she talks. She can sense it because she’s felt it before, too.

“Yeah, you…” Chaewon moves one of her hands vaguely, seemingly frustrated about not being able to find the right words to say. “You were so brave, Hyejoo. When you came out to me, I… I was struggling, trying to figure things out about myself, and… You were going through the same as me. But you had the courage to tell me and I…”

“You left,” Hyejoo finishes for her, the words taking all of the air out of her lungs.

At last, she knows why. She finally understands the reason why Chaewon ran away.

And if she has to be honest, it still hurts a little. It might hurt her whole life. The loneliness and the fear that Hyejoo felt when that happened can’t be easily forgotten, but—she can try. She can try, because in a way, she understands why Chaewon did it.

Their journeys may have been different, but now Hyejoo knows that they both have suffered enough through them. Holding a grudge won’t heal any of her wounds. Chaewon, like Hyejoo, made mistakes because she didn’t know any better. She didn’t know at the time that there was a way to things that wasn’t led by shame and dread.

“If that’s what’s been bothering you all this time,” Hyejoo says, “I forgive you.”

A sharp breath next to her. Hyejoo notices Chaewon’s shoulder relax, and smiles to herself. At least that’s something she can finally let go of now. A chapter of her life she can finally close.

Silence settles between them as they observe the city under the night sky. Hyejoo thinks this place seems familiar, thinks she might have seen it in one of Chaewon’s Instagram pictures. Inside her, she still struggles to grasp the fact that Chaewon drove all the way here, asked Heejin to borrow the keys to this place, just so she could _apologize_ to Hyejoo.

It seems a little too much.

Hyejoo wants to ask her about it, but something else is in her mind. Something that has been bothering for the past for years now.

“I didn’t expect you to ever think about that,” Hyejoo whispers, a part of her hoping that the older girl cannot hear it. She looks sidelong at Chaewon and her heart skips for a second. “Or, um… think about me.”

“Of course I think about you,” Chaewon says, and stares at Hyejoo intently. “I think about you all the time.”

It might just be the night wind, but Hyejoo could swear she hears something whisper in her ear, telling her that this is it. This is the moment everything has been leading up to. Hyejoo and Chaewon, holding hands under the night sky—this is exactly where they are supposed to be right now.

So Hyejoo gathers all the courage she has left and places a careful hand on Chaewon’s jaw, making their eyes meet. It’s very hard not to look away, especially with Chaewon looking at her like that—so keenly, like she’s the only person left in the universe.

(In that very moment, it feels like they are.)

“I’ve been thinking about us,” Hyejoo says, her voice so small it’s almost hard to hear, “and I…”

Hyejoo doesn’t finish her sentence, her words cut off when Chaewon stands on her tiptoes and presses her lips gently against Hyejoo’s.

Chaewon’s lips are soft—just like every other thing about her—but there’s a certain eagerness about the way they move against Hyejoo’s mouth, as if they’d been waiting for this for a long time. Hyejoo would be lying if she said she hadn’t been waiting for this all her life as well.

They have to pull away to draw in a breath, and Hyejoo can’t help but whine in protest. Her eyes they flutter open slowly, and she cannot believe this isn’t a dream. She cannot believe Chaewon is standing in front of her, her hair a little messy and her lips slightly parted, blushing furiously.

She cannot believe Chaewon has just kissed _her_.

“I thought you were in love with Sooyoung,” Hyejoo blurts out without thinking. She feels Chaewon’s hand squeeze her own, not letting go, but she still doesn’t dare to look at her in the eye.

“That’s a weird thing to say after a first kiss,” Chaewon giggles, her free hand moving a loose strand of hair behind Hyejoo’s ear. Her fingers linger on her cheek, soft and loving in the way only Chaewon can be.

“I—all this time, I was convinced you were in love with her. I tried to… get over it but, um… I just—I couldn’t deal with it anymore and—”

“Hyejoo,” Chaewon interrupts, her tone a bit stern, like she’s scolding a little kid. Just like the younger girl did before, she places a hand on her cheek. “It’s not Sooyoung. It’s not her I’m in love with.”

And although Hyejoo understands, knows deep down what Chaewon is trying to tell her—for a moment, she hesitates. The part of her that’s still trapped in the darkest corner of her mind whispers, and despite _knowing_ exactly what Chaewon is trying to say, she listens. Jinsol Jungeun Jiwoo Haseul Heejin Hyunjin that one girl she never dated… All of them. Any of them. It should be any of them. Chaewon should love one of them. Any of them. But she doesn’t. It should be them, but it’s not. It’s—

“Hyejoo,” Chaewon says again, arching one of her brows. “You understand what I’m saying, right?”

Hyejoo only manages a small, confused noise, because Chaewon is still so close to her, and the only thing she can think about is kissing her and kissing her and kissing her. “That’s—that’s fucking cool. Honestly, if you had told me you were _actually_ in love with Sooyoung I’d probably have started crying.”

Chaewon giggles, her hand on the back of Hyejoo’s neck, and pulls her for another kiss. This time, it’s a little more frantic than Hyejoo was expecting, although she’s quick to catch up. She understands the need to make up for all the lost time. God, she’s dreamed of this for so long, and now—they’re kissing.

Not only that. This goes beyond kissing—this is communicating. This is Hyejoo and Chaewon finally telling the other how they feel.

Hyejoo has loved Chaewon in all ways possible. First as a stranger, a distant memory on a picture frame in her living room. Then as an acquaintance, a role model to follow around like a duckling. Then as a friend and as a best friend and as more than a friend but nothing else. As a stranger (again), as a roommate, as a new friend and as the Chaewon she has always known, but also as the Chaewon she has become with time and pain and fear. And for the first time in her life, Hyejoo allows herself to be a little selfish—she allows herself to believe that Chaewon has also loved her all this time and still loves her now. That although there are over 7 billion people in the world, Chaewon has chosen to love _her_.

Hyejoo watches her, this beautiful girl she has loved all her life. She watches her lips curled into a smile, her eyes sparkling like the stars above them, her nose scrunch slightly. She watches her, and thinks _she loves me_.

And this time, it isn’t a fantasy, or a daydream, or wishful thinking.

This time, it’s the truth.

“So you think about me, huh?” Chaewon teases, bopping the tip of Hyejoo’s nose.

The younger of the two nods, a grin so wide plastered on her face that she can feel her muscles go numb.

“All the time,” she says, echoing Chaewon’s words from earlier.

“Good to know.”

And then she pulls her for another kiss.

* * *

(On their way back home, driving with Oh My Girl serving as their background music, Hyejoo finally manages to say it out loud.

"I think I love you," she whispers, looking at the empty road in front of them.

Chaewon laughs, throwing her head back a bit. “You think?”

Her eyes leave the road for a second to look at Hyejoo, the corners of her mouth curled into a playful grin. She arches one of her brows and Hyejoo feels like she’s watching her on that day of late summer, only this time, it’s very different.

"Because I’ve known for a while."

They don't say another word for the rest of the ride, but they never stop smiling.

When they get off the car, their hands find each other quickly, fingers intertwined, just like it was always meant to be.)

* * *

**epilogue: forever**

* * *

“Do you have any plans for this summer, Hyejoo?”

The late spring sun manages to sneak into the apartment through the blinds. Hyejoo closes her eyes, feeling the warmth of the golden hour on her cheeks and the familiar noise of Sooyoung’s place around her. This might be her last time enjoying it: the girls are going to move out next year.

“Not really.” She shrugs. “Just… Chaewon is coming over at the end of the month. Just like old times.”

Haseul, who’s helping Jinsol pack her own bags, smiles widely when she hears that. She’s been especially supportive of Hyejoo and Chaewon dating, always giving them advice on how to navigate their relationship while still keeping things private. Honestly, Hyejoo is incredibly thankful to have someone like her around.

Seeing the apartment like this, half-emptied because Jinsol is going back home for the summer and might not come back to Seoul next year, fills Hyejoo with a nostalgia that’s hard to explain. This shoebox apartment has been such an important place for her and for the rest of the girls, and Jinsol leaving means they’re losing a key piece to it.

Haseul nods, folding some shirts that Hyejoo doesn’t recognize as Jinsol’s but still seem familiar. Hmm. “So, what are you two going to do? Y’know, when you get home?”

“Your parents don’t know yet, do they?” Hyunjin asks, bold as ever.

Hyejoo shakes her head, pressing her lips together for a moment. The issue about telling her parents had bothered for a while, although with the help of the rest of the girls—including Yerim and Yeojin, who may not be there physically but are very much involved with the gang—she could start to figure things out.

“No, they don’t know anything. We just told them Chaewon is coming to spend a few days with us. We’ll see how things turn out then. I… I’m not sure I’m ready to take that step yet.”

Sooyoung places a hand on her shoulder and gives her an encouraging smile.

“Wait until you’re ready. No need to rush. You need to look out for yourself, make sure things will turn out well,” she says. Behind her, Jiwoo nods enthusiastically, giving Hyejoo a thumbs up. “If it’s not now, you’ll be ready someday.”

“I know,” Hyejoo says, nudging the older girl with a playful smile. Sooyoung might be a pain in the ass sometimes, but Hyejoo loves her like a sister. (Although she’d rather die than tell her this out loud.) “You’ve told me that like, a hundred times already, _mom_.”

Across the room, Hyunjin snickers (if there’s someone who loves to poke fun at Sooyoung, that’s her) and Sooyoung glowers at her before she smacks Hyejoo’s arm.

“I’m trying to be a good unnie and you make fun of me?” She sighs dramatically, a hand on her chest and the other pretending to wipe away an invisible tear. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Vivi, who has now joined in helping Jinsol and Haseul, smiles a mischievous grin. “You want a list? Do you prefer it in chronological order or alphabetized?”

“Et tu, Vivi?” Sooyoung pouts, visibly offended this time. The oldest of the bunch is usually on her side, or at least she tries to remain as neutral as possible. To be honest, Hyejoo admires her—teasing Sooyoung is always very tempting, and she couldn’t resist it like Vivi does.

“I mean,” Hyunjin says, munching on some chips (where she got them, Hyejoo doesn’t know), “you can be a bitch sometimes. I love you, though. You’re my bro.”

“She’s not a bitch,” Jinsol says. “She’s a Gemini.”

“Girl, that’s even worse,” Heejin points out, and all of them burst out laughing.

A few moments later, the sound of doorbell interrupts their conversation, with both Jinsol and Hyunjin racing towards the intercom. The rest of them stop whatever they’re doing and clear the small table on the living room so they all can have dinner there. After losing in a game of rock, paper, scissors, Jungeun and Chaewon were sent to buy all of them dinner at Haseul’s favourite restaurant down the steet.

“Dinner is here,” Jungeun announces, pushing the unlocked door open. There’s a huge smile on her face as she proudly shows off all the take-out bags she’s holding.

The rest of the girls cheer loudly, and so does Hyejoo. She takes a short moment to try and memorize this very instant—all her friends gathered in this small but important place, all of them laughing together, celebrating, enjoying themselves. That’s how she wants to remember them in the future, when she looks back at this moment: happy.

A smile creeps on Hyejoo’s lips when she sees a familiar blonde walking through the door behind Jungeun.

Also holding some bags on her hands, Chaewon walks in, making dramatic bows at every step, walking into the house like she’s on a runway as their friends cheer. Her flowery summer dress floats around her like a cloud, her hair is loose and shines with the light of the golden hour and Hyejoo thinks she cannot possibly be more in love with this girl.

The fluttery feeling tickles inside chest, almost making her giggle, when her eyes meet Chaewon’s and the other girl beams at her, bright and tender. There’s something about the way her heart-shaped lips curl into a smile, the way her eyes close and her tiny body shakes when she laughs, something that clings to every part of Hyejoo and fills her with a special kind of warmth.

Only one person has ever made her feel this way.

“ _Of course it’s Chaewon,_ ” she thinks.

It’s always been Chaewon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as usual: thank you so much for reading. if you enjoyed the story, i encourage you to leave a commet telling me what your favourite part was, what you enjoyed or whatever!! i don't care, i love comments! please don't be a silent reader :(
> 
> also: i'm considering writing a lipsoul side story (and maybe another side story for the other ships). would that be of anyone's interest? lmk
> 
> there's a lot going on in the world right now, so please spare a minute to [support black lives](https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/), [sign some petitions](https://twitter.com/serendipiitysam/status/1282189403557752832?s=20) and [support lgbt rights in poland](https://www.change.org/p/mateusz-morawiecki-pass-laws-that-would-protect-lgbt-people-in-poland-and-abolish-current-anti-lgbt-laws?utm_content=cl_sharecopy_22742475_en-US%3A4&recruited_by_id=3c72a6e0-bb86-11ea-a79f-257173906a0c&utm_source=share_petition&utm_medium=copylink&utm_campaign=psf_combo_share_initial&utm_term=psf_combo_share_initial)
> 
> [tw](https://twitter.com/sailorplvtos)   
>  [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/sailorplvtos)


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